I'll Stand By You
by Alisia Vi Roberto
Summary: Question: What happens when the person sitting next to you... tries to kill you? The apocalypse is upon the countries, and everyone is turning on each other. Nobody knows what to do! This is a story of love, betrayal, and survival. WARNING: Character deaths
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS OR HETALIA! THERE WILL BE DEATHS AND SADNESS! ALSO, BOY x BOY! DON'T LIKE DON'T READ!  
**

**GERMANY**

"WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP?!" yelled Germany.

Everyone continued to talk, and Germany could hardly take it anymore. This was exhausting! They were getting absolutely NOTHING done!

America kept screaming from across the room how he was gonna "save the world" on December 21st this year, while England shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Italy was chattering to nobody in particular, while Romano just kept getting more and more annoyed with him.

Russia was obviously sitting on Canada, which quite frankly confused Germany, but he left it alone.

China was trying to get America's attention, waving some papers in front of his face.

Germany was losing his patience quickly.

Suddenly, he stood up and left the room.

As the door closed behind him, he thought to himself, Mein Gott! How could they all be such fools! Discussing unimportant things like the end of the world (which would NOT happen!) when they could be discussing things like what to do about all the money America owes China, or helping Greece with his economy!

Germany huffed once more, and sat down on the ground.

Suddenly, Italy came running after him. Germany groaned.

"Ciao, Germany! I was wondering if you had an plans to protect us all from the end of the world because the end of the world would be very bad and I don't want to die hey do you remember when I thought I was going to die and I was the box-of-tomatoes fairy? That was funny! Anyway, I made a bunch of white flags to make sure the aliens or zombies or whatever know we don't want to fight! Hey do you remember-"

"Italy, the world isn't going to end…"

Italy paused and cocked his head. Then he smiled and gave Germany a hug.

"Of course not, because you're gonna save us all, right? Oh that's a silly question, of course you will! You always save me when I'm in trouble! Hey do you remember that time…"

Germany eventually tuned Italy out, occasionally saying "Ja" when he asked a question.

After about an hour of Italy chattering his ear off, Germany checked his watch. The meeting should be over by now, he thought. I wonder what's taking them so long?

His eyes narrowed and he stood up abruptly, taking his gun out of his belt. Italy went silent and stood up behind him, cowering a little.

There was a slamming sound inside the meeting room, and a thud. Italy whimpered a little. Germany crept up to the door, and opened it a crack.

He threw it open, once he saw.

France and England were shoving each other, and France had a bloody nose. America lay unconscious on the ground, and there was a chair flipped over. Everyone else was kind of keeping their distance from the two.

"You bloody bastard! NOW look what you've done!" England took another swipe at France's face, and France ducked.

"You imbecile! Tu as commencé! [You started it!] Get off me!"

Germany ran to the two men, who were getting a little bit too rough for his comfort. He stepped between them, shoving them apart.

"What's the problem here?" he demanded.

"I've HAD ENOUGH of this moron!" France spat.

"He won't lay the bloody hell off!" England yelled.

France took a step back. He brushed off his clothes.

"You've had this coming for a while, England. I will destroy you, and ANY," he made a point of glaring at the unconscious America. "other countries who stand by you."

England's eyes widened. France walked out.

Germany's body tensed. Could this mean…?

Everyone was silent for a few moments. England fell to his knees and began to sob. Italy started to freak out and shake Germany.

Everyone got louder and louder. Germany could hardly take it. He needed to get out. Think.

But not when the other countries needed some order.

"Listen UP!" He screamed it especially loud this time. They all got quiet and looked at him.

"Everything will be all right, as long as we all stick togeth-"

"Ehem." Piped up a small voice.

Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice. It was Canada.

"I… I a-as w-w-well have had enough of s-some of y-y-you. None of you ever remember me," He started to speak more clearly, gaining confidence. "I will join my big brother." He walked out.

England sniffled. He looked down at America.

Suddenly, China spoke up.

"America owes me MONEY! None of you EVER respect me! I give you SO MUCH, and you give me SO LITTLE! I'm through here. I am joining them." He walked out as well.

"I will leave if China leaves," Russia says with a smile. Before he exits, he turns and says simply, "If this IS indeed war, then you will all be crushed, and I cannot wait to see your desperate faces underneath the wrath or Mother Russia as you try and escape." He closes the door.

Suddenly, the door opens again.

"Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, are you coming?" Russia says cheerfully.

They all stand up shakily, but then, Latvia speaks up.

"No, sir, we are not." And he sits back down.

Russia tilts his head and smiles. "And why would that be?"

Lithuania speaks up as Latvia cowers behind him.

"We are done being your… your slaves," he says strongly. "We are staying here. You can go."

Russia sighs. "That will be too bad. Your deaths will be very painful, mind you." And he exits.

The Baltic States begin to shake and panic.

"ANYBODY ELSE WANT TO BECOME TRAITORS? YOU'RE WELCOME TO IT!" Germany screams.

About half the remaining countries stand and leave.

Germany looks around at his comrades.

"We will fight hard, if this is indeed war! They will all die!"

Italy started to cry.

"BUT I DON'T WANNA GO TO ANOTHER WORLD WAR GERMANY THE LAST ONE WAS TOO SCARY!"

Italy buried his face in Germany's shirt collar.

England piped up.

"W-What are we going to DO?"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHINA**

China followed France, who was already making battle plans.

"We will attack on the twenty first, in exactly twenty-four hours…"

Russia trailed behind China, and Canada was clutching his polar-bear tightly beside them. Several other countries joined their cause as well. Belarus and Ukraine followed Russia, Seychelles and Monaco followed France, Turkey wished to get away from Greece, Romano refused to work with Germany, Spain followed Romano, Sealand was trying to do away with England for shunning him, and Hong Kong followed China.

China smiled to himself.

So many, he thought. So many people out for revenge!

Russia came up behind China.

"Hello, China."

"Oh! Um, Ni Hao."

"Lovely weather today, da?"

"Oh, um, yes, very…" China said, even though they were indoors at France's house.

"China, I-" Russia started.

"CHINA!" yelled France.

"Yeah?"

"Go make us some food! I am STARVING!"

China's jaw dropped.

"What?" he choked out.

"Oh! Remember those noodles you made the other day? Could you make those again! They were _délicieux_!"

China glared at France, and Russia simply smiled at France.

"You should speak more kindly to poor China." Smiled Russia.

France came up beside China and whispered in his ear. "I will have you later, _mon cher_."

China shuddered and speed-walked away.

Later that night, China lay awake in bed contemplating.

_They treat me just the same as the others! This is not even a little better! Let's see…I could rebel? No, no… that would not work. I can't fight every country alone. I would need some horsepower. I would need…_ China sat up in bed.

He tip-toed out of his bedroom, and found the right door.

He opened it a crack, and whispered,

"Russia?"

Russia was staring directly at the door.

"Yes?"

China took a deep breath. "Did I wake you?"

"No, no. Come sit."

China cautiously came and sat down next to Russia. Russia smiled down at him.

"What is troubling you, little friend?"

China took a deep breath.

"Nobody respects me here! I need to get out of this place and fight for my own beliefs! I'm done standing behind other countries. I can't do it alone, though. Would you…"

"Crush them all and rule the world with you? Of course!"

China's eyes widened.

"You… You would?"

"Of course! Anything for my little friend, right?"

China smiled timidly, still a little bit frightened by the large country.

He stuck out his hand, which was shaking badly.

Russia took it and they they were in an agreement. They would become their own alliance.


	3. Chapter 3

**ENGLAND**

America snored loudly on the couch, a fleece blanket with some superhero on it.

When he slept, he almost looked... peaceful.

England smiled and looked at the boy's face. He was very handsome, with messy blonde hair and light skin. His glasses were on the table next to him, so there were little dark marks where the nose-pads sat. He was even drooling a little.

England had spent the last 236 years worrying about him being on his own. He was just always so... stupid! He never made rational decisions, he set things on fire, he attacked other countries for no reason, and worst of all, he took everything and left nothing for anybody else. But still, England _did _care about him.

"ENGLAND! Are you even _paying attention_?" Yelled Germany, startling England from his daze.

He quickly looked over to Germany, who stood in front of a chalkboard, glaring at him.

"Sorry, I was just-"

"Never mind! Just try and listen to our battle strategy! _You _are the one who got us into this whole mess!" Germany yelled, clearly very irritated.

That did it.

"_Me? _I didn't do a goddamned thing you twit! France just decided to be an _arse_, and verbally attack me for no reason! I simply defended myself!" England screamed.

"_Mein Gott! _England, I saw you screaming at him! This is partially your fault as well!"

"Belt up! I.. I..." He fell to the ground on his knees. He didn't know what to do. He knew it was partially his fault, but was much too proud to admit it. He let tears fall. "I'm sorry, okay? But to... to be fair, that _bugger _has been bothering me since childhood! And now..." He took a shaky breath. "Now look what I've done. I've put you all in danger."

America snorted in the corner and sat up straight, blinking rapidly. He then seemed to realize he wasn't wearing glasses and grabbed them off the table beside him.

"What's up, dudes?" He said, hopping up.

England was still on his knees, sobbing into his hands.

"Ohmigod! What's the matter, man? Dude! I haven't seen you cry like this since I was, like, a kid! Hey! For real, what's wrong?" He said rather loudly.

He sat down beside England cross-legged. He touched his shoulder and stroked, his voice getting softer.

"Hey, what happened? I just remember France yelling at you... Then I blacked out."

This made England cry harder. It was all his fault. He would lose America, and it would be all his fault.

Suddenly, he looked into America's eyes, and said softly, "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

And he meant his promise. He meant it with all his heart. He would keep them from hurting America, even if it meant his own downfall.

"Uh, why would I be un-safe?" America stammered.

"It is a time of war, _Junge_." Germany spoke up. America's blue eyes widened.

"Woah, man! What do you mean? Against _who_? Why?"

"I..." England choked out. "I might have angered France a tad too much, and he left with some others who were unhappy with their treatment..." England almost added that their first target would be to kill America, but decided against it.

After a long time of explaining to America what was going on, Germany continued his battle plans.

"We will attack at dawn. They will not get through our army. This war might just be over at sunset." Germany smiled.

"Is anybody gonna die?" Italy squeaked.

Germany sighed. "Most likely, Italy."

"_What_?" Italy gasped. "But if some people died then it would not be the same at all! The world meetings would never be the same, and it would just be too SAD! What if someone in _here_ died? You guys are my friends! And I'm a virgin!" Italy rambled, horrified.

England rolled his eyes. "You need to simmer down, Italy."

But the question hung in the air. What if someone in _here _died? What if? The question echoed in England's mind.

Again, he looked at America. America cocked his head.

"Dude, why do you keep looking at me like that?"

England looked away. "No I wasn't."

America shrugged and looked at Germany, who shook his head. "We cannot worry about such things. This is war. Death must happen for someone to win."

"But... But..." Italy squeaked. "I DO NOT WANT ROMANO TO DIE HE WENT WITH FRANCE WHAT IF SOMEONE HURTS HIM I DO NOT WANT MY BIG BROTHER TO GET HURT! GERMANY PROMISE YOU WON'T HURT HIM, PROMISE!"

Germany looked stricken. But he got a very serious face, and replied solemnly, "I... I promise, Italy."

Italy smiled hugely. "Yay! Now let's all go eat some pasta!"

After eating pasta for dinner, England went to his personal quarters to get some rest before the battle. The sky was growing dark outside, and with each passing minute, England's heart was thrown more forcefully into his throat.

After about an hour, there was a knock on his door.

"Come in..." He mumbled into his pillow.

The door opened a crack.

"England? Are you awake?" America whispered rather loudly.

"I am now, you big idiot..." he mumbled under his breath. "What do you want?"

America opened the door all the way. He was wearing Spider-man footie pajamas, and was carrying his stuffed bunny. England almost laughed- he looked like a child!- but he kept a straight face.

"I... I had a nightmare..." America whimpered. "There were ghosts... And you were one of them... I was so scared that it was real, that you really were... y'know..."  
America trailed off, but then took a deep breath. "Can I sleep with you, just tonight? We have to get up in a few hours, but I don't want to have another nightmare..."

England was taken aback by this, but he sighed. "Sure."

He scooted over in bed and America climbed in next to him. He snuggled up against his chest, making England blush.

"Good night, England..." America said quietly, before falling into a deep sleep.

England could smell America's hair, which smelled like shampoo. He put his arms around him, and kissed him on the forehead.

"Good night."


	4. Chapter 4

**FRANCE**

Ahead, France could see the sun coming up over the mountains.

He looked around at his comrades, hoping that he'd made the right decision.

Beside him were Seychelles and Monaco, chatting about something he was not paying attention to. On the other side, was Canada, quiet as always.

France never quite understood his little brother. Canada was nothing like him. It was very unfair. England got America, who was strong, fun, and loud, while France got Canada who was generally bland, quiet, and... just invisible.

On the other hand, Canada always seemed to understand the things around him, and he was always so nice. He was an obedient little boy, that was for sure. He always listened to France when France needed to talk.

As if he had just read France's mind, Canada looked at France and smiled.

France looked away quickly.

He began to go over the battle strategy in his mind again.

They would pass over the mountains, and they would meet the enemy. Group 1 (which contained Canada's army) would be the decoy. They would go in first, and then Romano and Spain's armies would go in second and hit their front lines when they are preoccupied with Canada's army. Then, France's army would go in during the middle, and really hit them hard. Finally, at the end, they would use the combined forces of China and Russia to finish them off.

Suddenly, it occurred to France that he had not seen either China or Russia that day.

He stopped.

Everyone around him stopped as well.

They were at the foot of the small mountain, which was the only thing between them and the waiting enemies. All was silent.

He turned to face his comrades, who all looked at him stony-faced.

"H-has anyone seen Monsieur Russia or China today? Russia? China? Are you _here_?" France choked out. No response. "Oh god. This can't be happening... Where are they?" He demanded.

No response. Slowly everyone tarted to panic. The panic began to build up into a quiet hum, then grew to a buzz, then a constant ear-splitting commotion.

France was panicking as well.

What were they going to DO? They did not have the Russian _or _Chinese armies there, which was their entire secret weapon. France felt... naked. Exposed.

Suddenly, he heard screams from over the mountain. They were distant, but they were definitely there. Clashing weapons. Horses.

What was going on? How could there possibly be a battle?

"France?" Canada squeaked.

"Yes?"

"P-perhaps it's them." He said.

And France knew then.. He didn't need to elaborate, because he knew.

He turned back to face his comrades once more.

"We have been betrayed!" He yelled. "What do you all want to do about it?" Silence. "I say we ATTACK!"

France was enraged. He couldn't remember a time when he was angrier than this. His blood boiled, his teeth clenched and unclenched, his stomach bubbled. He was ready.

The armies let out a battle cry, and they all ran up the mountain. France ran after them, and he just saw for a split second Canada shaking his head and sighing.

He didn't care. He would attack. He would have his revenge.

He took off with his soldiers, battle strategies thrown to the wind.


	5. Chapter 5

**RUSSIA**

China set off fire lances, killing soldiers all over the place. Their bodies were on fire.

Russia looked at the small man, fiercely firing huge flaming spears into crowds of enemy soldiers. Russia found it quite... seductive.

A German ran at him-a brave man, really- and Russia pulled out his knife and with a swift motion, simply jabbed it into his abdomen. The boy died immediately.

They had taken the enemy by total surprise, coming from behind them, killing off their best soldiers first. Now they were left with the amateurs. It was like taking candy from a baby. Hardly any of Russia's men were dead.

Suddenly, Russia could hear France coming over the mountain. He turned and smiled at the enraged man in bright blue and red sprinting at him angrily. He was pleased when China shot a fire lance in his direction, distracting him.

Russia continued to duck and jab and shoot into the crowd of soldiers. They were dying quickly. Suddenly, he could hear a voice behind him which made him stop.

"Russia! Help!" China yelled.

Russia turned to see a man with shoulder-length blonde hair on top of China, holding a knife.

China was screaming.

Russia could see that the man was taunting China, trying to get him to beg for his life. China was being prideful, and not begging. He was simply showing fear for his life, which Russia also found rather cute.

This man did not have the strength to kill China, Russia knew that. China did not know this.

But, Russia thought, He does have the strength to hurt him.

This thought angered Russia, so much that he began walking to them. The thought of someone hurting China, putting him through any pain, or even leaving so much as a _scar _on that pretty face of his, made Russia growl and grit his teeth. He began walking faster.

He walked faster and faster until he was towering above them both.

"Like, where's your precious Russia _now_?" The man asked.

China saw him and looked somewhat relieved. The man only saw a shadow had grown over them. He froze and a tremor seemed to build through his body. He did not taunt anymore. He slowly turned around, and Russia could see his face.

"Hello, Poland. It is so nice to see you." He smiled, trying to keep his control.

"Y-yes, quite..." Poland whimpered.

"Now, will you please get off of my friend?" Russia mused.

Poland shot up. Russia patted his head firmly.

"Good boy. Give me your knife."

Poland handed him the knife.

"Now give me your gun."

Poland handed him the gun.

When Russia did not ask for more, Poland seemed to relax a little. How cute.

"You think I am finished?" Russia said. He grabbed Poland's shirt collar with both hands and picked him up. Poland was squirming. "You think you can nearly kill my friend and get away with it, _da_?" Poland said nothing, for he was choking from being held by his shirt collar.

Russia threw the boy down.

"Do you want to see me when I am angry?"

Poland shook his head. Snow was beginning to fall.

"I did not think so. but I can assure you, I am very angry right now. I would just prefer not to frighten my dear China."

Russia pulled out his own gun. Poland's eyes widened.

"P-please n-no... I'll- I'll come, like, work for you! J-just please don't, like, k-kill me!" Poland begged. Russia cocked the hammer of his gun, making a clicking noise. Poland shrieked and tried to scramble away. He jumped up and started to run. Russia fired the gun, and it hit Poland square in the small of his back.

He fell. Russia walked leisurely over to the bleeding boy in the snow. He turned Poland over on his back, so he could look him in the eye. Poland was crying.

"LITHUANIA! LITHUANIAAA!" He screamed. "LITHU-" Russia covered his mouth with a gloved hand.

"If I let you live now, then you would never walk again. What is the point of that?" Russia cocked the hammer once again, and swiftly fired it directly into Poland's heart, making his body twitch. Poland's green eyes remained open, unblinking.

Russia stood, and looked down at his gloves, now covered in blood.

"The first death of war." He said solemnly.

"POLAND!" Someone screamed from behind Russia.

Russia turned and saw Lithuania running at them. He stopped dead in his tracks when he could see Poland covered in blood in the snow.

His eyes welled up with tears.

"H-how dare you?" He said to Russia. "HOW DARE YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD?!" He screamed. He fell to his knees beside the dead man.

He sobbed into his palms. Snow fell and piled into his dark hair.

Russia couldn't think of anything to say. He had never seen anyone look this... Torn to pieces.

"You..." Lithuania stood. "You have taken EVERYTHING from me! You took my freedom! You took POLAND from me twice now! Only now I can never EVER get him back! Have you know decency, man? What the hell is WRONG with you? What part of you compels you to take away the only things that the people around you care about? I LOVED HIM! GODDAMMIT I LOVED HIM! I..." Tears dripped down his cheeks and fell onto Poland's face. "I love you." He said it directly into Poland's unblinking eyes.

Then, he leaned down and kissed Poland's dead lips. Russia shook his head in pity.

When he finally pulled away. Lithuania looked up at Russia. "Finish the job."

"Excuse me?" Russia said.

"You've killed half of me, kill the other part. At least have the decency to finish what you started, you cruel monster!"

Russia nodded, knowingly. Not an honorable death, but if it was what Lithuania truly wanted...

He pulled out his gun, and, once again, cocked the hammer. Lithuania leaned down and smelled Poland's chest, the part that wasn't covered in blood. He lied down, inhaled once more, and whispered, "I love you."

Russia closed his eyes to keep from showing his true emotions, and shot the gun. It hit Lithuania in the temple, killing him immediately.

He couldn't hold it in anymore.

Russia fell to his knees and sobbed.


	6. Chapter 6

**GERMANY**

Germany had been preoccupied fighting China, who was _fast_.

China ducked and twisted and kicked and punched, while Germany could only do so much. He could punch and kick, he just wasn't as agile as China was. To we even worse, China had on a bulletproof army uniform (No, not just a vest, a whole UNIFORM which he undoubtedly developed for his whole army)!

He had to admit, the combined forces of China and Russia was flat out deadly.

So far, they'd lost Lithuania and Poland. Poland was being a fool and attacking China while Russia was nearby. Russia killed him on the spot, and then killed Lithuania. Germany had quickly mourned the loss and his men take them away.

Italy did not come, for Germany would not let him.

Suddenly, as China and Germany were busy fighting each other, there was a very loud noise, kind of like a growling tiger. But it was not a tiger. When he and China both turned around to see what was going on, they both caught sight of quite a spectacle.

"PREPARE TO BE CRUSHED BY MY AWESOMENESS!" Yelled Prussia, who was sitting on top of a huge Monster Truck.

Germany slapped his forehead with his palm. What was it called? _Facepalm _or something.

"DON'T WORRY WEST I AM HERE TO SAVE THE DAY! I AM AWESOME!" Prussia called out to him. "CHECK OUT MY RIDE YOU KNOW YOU'RE ALL JEALOUS! WELL YOU SHOULD BE BECAUSE I AM SO AWESOME!"

Germany looked up at his older brother on the monster truck.

"Where did you _get _that thing?" Germany called.

"America lent it to me! It suits me because it is almost as awesome as I am!" He thought for a second. "Actually no, that is impossible. I am awesome!"

Germany rolled his eyes. "If you really want to help, get down from there!"

Prussia looked unsure. "Ahhh, the thing is... I don't have any weapons on me..."

"MEIN GOTT! So you just showed up on a monster truck?"

"Pretty much, yeah. I figured I'd just run people over... and look awesome!"

Germany shook his head. "Go home, Prussia."

"Do you... Not want me to help you?" Prussia looked shocked.

"I..." Germany started. He did not know what to say. Now was not exactly a good time for this, and Prussia was probably going to be the death of him, but he had to figure out a way to get him to leave so Germany could help the people who actually were doing something useful.

But how...

"Prussia, I need you to leave because... Because I do not want you to get hurt!" Germany smiled.

"Huh?"

"Ja! You wouldn't want your _awesomeness _to be scratched by such a petty battle, now would you?"

Prussia thought for a second.

"No, I would not... That _would _be quite tragic..."

"Indeed! Now why don't you go home a rest for the _real _battle?" Germany grinned, knowing he'd won.

"Okay! TIME FOR AN AWESOME-POWER-NAP!" Prussia revved the engine and drove away.

Germany wished that the battle had frozen because of that, but it truth everyone had just continued fighting while that was going on. China was a little bit stunned, though.

While Germany was still distracted, China lunged at him. Germany could not tell, but he saw something metallic flash by, just before he felt the worst pain imaginable right in his side.

He cried out, and felt China tug on something that appeared to have been stuck in him. It came out. Germany fell to the ground, hands clutching his side. He looked up at China with desperate eyes.

The small man winked, sheathed his knife, and walked away.

Germany looked at his trembling hands. They were covered in warm, red, blood. He tried to sit up. He couldn't, because the pain shot through his body when he even _thought _about moving. He cried out again.

He could feel the blood pouring out into the snow.

He heard shouts. Then he heard nothing.

Just as his vision began to blur, he could see America England's faces hovering several feet above his.

_So_, He thought. _This is what it feels like to die..._

All went black.

...

Germany opened his eyes. Dim light streamed into the room, which was all pastel colors.

He wondered, just for a moment, if he was dead and had gone to heaven. Then he heard a voice.

"GERMANY! You woke up!" Italy said.

_No. This is definitely not heaven..._

"W-what time is it?" Germany gurgled.

"It is nearly eight p.m.!" Italy said, looking at his watch.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Well, you were pretty badly injured. China stabbed you in the side but luckily England and America were there to drag you away and take you to _my _house to rest up and heal. Can you believe it? They trust _me _with you! Isn't that wonderful? Anyway so I've been watching you sleep for a while and I thought maybe you would want to talk when you woke up. Also Prussia called and left a message. He said 'I TOLD YOU SO HAHA! I AM AWESOME!' And I was like 'Okay I'll let him know!' So then I had a wonderful bowl of pasta for lunch and I saved the leftovers for you!"

Germany's head was spinning. This was too much.

"Did we lose the battle?"

"Oh yes! You guys lost BADLY!" Italy continued to smile.

"How many dead?"

"Just Poland and Lithuania, I think," Italy said. Then he began to tear up. "POOR POLAND AND LITHUANIA! I will never see them again and the world meetings will never ever be the same and I really really miss them and they have already been buried outside next to each other! I can't believe Russia would do that I mean we ARE in war but still that's so mean!"

Germany silently promised to himself he would go outside and mourn them as soon as he was well enough to leave the room. Which reminded him...

"How bad are my injuries?"

"Oh! The doctor says you should be fine within hours! China's knife did not go in deep enough to puncture anything-"

"And how long ago was that?"

"About seven hours ago."

"Mein Gott! So I can stand up?"

"Si!"

Germany sat up and twisted a little. There was a small tug, where undoubtedly there were stitches, but otherwise, nothing unbearable.

He swung his legs around to touch the ground and stood up.

Italy smiled.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better! But the doctor says you can't fight for the next week or so, because of your stitches."

"So... what will I do?"

"You get to stay here with ME!"

Germany smiled and said a small "Oh... yay?"

Italy started blabbing about all the cool stuff they would get to do together.

_This is going to be a long week..._


	7. Chapter 7

**England**

It was two in the morning on the twenty second.

America had another nightmare, so he once again fell asleep beside England in their makeshift tent. England could smell America's intoxicating scent, which was a lovely mixture of bubblegum, shampoo, and fried food.

England inhaled his aroma once again, letting it fill his head until he became dizzy. He suddenly froze. What was he _doing_?

He shook his head and whispered, "I swear, America. You bring out the strangest side of me..."

He suddenly noticed that America was still wearing his glasses. They were askew on his face, making him look rather hilarious. England chuckled and removed them gingerly.

America's eyes slowly opened, and he let out a small "Huh?"

England put on his tough face again, realizing he had been smiling softly. "Go back to sleep! It's early!"

America smiled. With sleepy eyes, he slurred, "When are you gonna stop pretending that you don't watch me while I sleep?"

England's cheeks turned hot. "What are you talking about you-"

"I'm not stupid, you know. I'm also not a little kid." America smiled again.

That made England's heart ache. How he longed for America to look up to him like he once did...

"I... I know you are no longer a child."

"Are you okay, man?" America whispered.

"Yeah." England said quickly, trying to hide the tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"No, you're not," America said, cocking his head. "C'mere." He sat up a little more, and wrapped his arms around England, drawing him closer to his warm body.

England couldn't hold it in anymore. He let out a quiet sob into America's shirt.

"It's okay, man," America cooed. "We're gonna be alright."

England grabbed America's hand and squeezed it.

"Hey... Why DO you stare at me when I sleep?"

England took a deep breath. "I don't know... I have such mixed emotions... I guess I just really care about you and I don't even know how to protect you properly. It's kind of a weird feeling. Whenever I'm around you something comes over me, and I just want to impress you. But I always mess it up... I also get this weird fluttering feeling in my gut whenever you do something stupid. I also can't even imagine what life would be like without you. I literally cannot bring myself to do it. And... and France said..." He started sobbing again.

"I know what France said." America stated without feeling.

"You... you do?"

"Yeah... Germany told me."

"Oh..." England blushed, embarrassed at all the things he'd just said. He wanted to say "Never mind" but that would be terribly rude...

"Oh and I know what that feeling is called."

"What feeling?"

"The one you just described." America smiled down at him.

"Oh?" England was curious.

"Yeah... It's called 'Love'." America said with a smirk. England's heart leaped into his throat.

"Oh..." England said.

And in that moment, England realized. He pieced everything together. He finished the equation. in a single earth-shattering moment, he realized that he was in total, deep, mad love with America. And that would never _ever _change.

It was as if America could read his mind. His blue eyes sparkled with the biggest smile he'd ever seen. It was quite dazzling.

"I love you too, England." America whispered.

England's heart danced. And he let the grimace he usually carried around with him fall. He knew he probably looked like an idiot, but he let all the passion and wonder and awe show on his facial expression. He didn't even know how to put into words how much he loved America.

Without thinking it over, England wrapped his arms around America's neck and pulled his face against his. Their lips met, and after a single shocked moment, America wrapped his arms tightly around England's waist and kissed him back.

The kiss started off slowly, and then built into a desperate, passionate, and beautiful tangling of their bodies.

America pulled away for a second, and started to kiss England's neck. England moaned.

England pulled him back into a deep and rich kiss.

America's lips tasted of hamburgers and fries. England wondered for a moment what _he _tasted like, but banished the thought before regrets of not bringing a toothbrush along haunted his brain for the rest of this beautifully perfect moment.

He felt drunk. He was dizzy and breathless against America's lips. They were both getting a little bit sweaty.

America's hands went _everywhere. _They left goosebumps where they passed over, and longing where they were yet to be. England let out a shuddering gasp when America's cold hands were wandering across his back.

"You like that, huh?" America said directly into his ear.

He ran his fingertips over England's back, hands wandering beneath England's shirt. Then he began to use his fingernails to lightly tickle England's skin. England was in sensual heaven.

America then grabbed England's shirt and pulled it over his head.

...

England and America were just laying there, breathless, in each others arms.

America was absolutely glowing with joy.

"So... you really meant it?" England said.

America laughed. "When I said I loved you? I think I pretty much just _showed_ you that I meant it..."

England laid a hand on America's bare chest, stroking it lovingly.

"You are so beautiful." America said adoringly.

"Shut up..." England said, blushing.

England loved how this felt. To hold each other, to touch each other... It was really quite glorious, actually.

America leaned down and kissed him again, more of a tender peck this time.

Suddenly, England heard hushed voices outside.

They looked at each other, shocked.

America quickly stood up, and pulled on his trousers. England timidly followed, slipping on his trousers, shirt, and shoes. America, fully dressed, quietly unzipped the tent. He peered out, and looked around. He then unzipped it all the way and quietly stepped out. England followed him.

"I'll check over there, you check over here." America whispered to England.

"Okay." England whispered back.

England turned away, unsure. He walked about fifteen feet in the darkness, squinting to see. There was nothing strange there, as far as he could tell.

Suddenly something hit him in the back of the head, and all went black.

...

When England awoke, the room he was in was dark. His hands and feet were bound, so he could not move.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps.

"Hello?" He called out.

All the lights turned on. He were in the meeting room.

And he was not alone.

"_Bonjour!_" France bellowed.

"Oh god... What is this, you git?"

"Oh... just my revenge," He smirked, and called to someone. "Pierre! Would you please bring the prisoner to me?"

England's heart began to pound. _Oh god... No... He couldn't possibly mean..._

A tall man dressed all in black dragged in a very beat up version of America. His shirt was all torn up, his body covered in dirt. He even had a scrape on his forehead. He was thrashing about, making it difficult for the man to hold him.

America had a blindfold on, and a gag in his mouth.

The man threw America onto the ground, landing with a thud. England winced.

America jumped up and ripped off his blindfold and gag. He looked around the room, frantic. When he saw England, he started to run to him, but the large man grabbed him by the waist. America looked so desperately scared that it broke England's heart.

The man punched the thrashing America in the face, making England choke out a scream.

"STOP! DON'T!" England yelled.

America fell to the ground, and put his hand on his head as if trying to steady himself. His glasses were cracked.

The man picked America back up and dragged him over to France, who had a knife in his belt. England's heart began to beat even faster.

"You see, America? We _told _you that you'd see England again!" France chuckled.

"Not COOL, man!" America sputtered.

France smiled.

"Here's the deal. You and I will fight. To the death. If you win, you and England are free to go. If I win, England will follow you in death _tomorrow_. I would say 'deal?' but you really do not have a choice in the matter."

America gritted his teeth. "Dude, you have a knife! That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair." France replied simply.

France threw off his cloak, and began to advance towards America.

England looked on in horror. France would kill him and then _make him watch_. It was sick and cruel.

France unsheathed his knife and lunged at America, who ducked and dodged his blows. America _had_ to figure out how to get that knife! Did he know this?

"America! Get the knife!" England screamed.

America seemed to understand, because he started lunging for France's legs.

He managed to tackle France to the ground, knocking the knife from his grip. America was much stronger than France, so he held him down easily. France struggled under America's grasp. America looked over at the knife which was simply five feet away, just beyond his reach.

"Honhonhon!" France laughed. "If you let me loose to get the knife, I will get there first and grab it! If you do not, that will get nothing done, and you and I both know you cannot hold me here forever!"

America looked around frantically.

England didn't know what to say. He wanted to help. He wanted to save them both, so he could keep his promise and make America safe again. But inside he knew, they would both be die soon.

America decided to take his chances, and reach for the weapon. It was a foolish move. France rolled from under him, knocking America out of the way. He grabbed the knife and leaped on top of the scrambling America.

England screamed again.

France picked America up by the throat, and slammed his back into the wall. He held the tip of the knife at the base of his neck.

If looks could kill, France would be dead and gone. America glared at France with such ferocity that it made him hesitate for a second.

England's throat was starting to hurt from the screaming. Tears ran down his cheeks in huge rivers of salt water.

"Any last words, America?" France grinned, a crazed look in his eye.

America looked over at England and raised his voice just enough for England to hear him.

"I... I love you. Thank you so much for everything you've done for me... You know what? I wouldn't trade any of the life I've spent with you for _anything_."

As if in slow motion, America looked bravely back at France, who hesitated only for a moment before stabbing America in the throat, then in the heart. America fell down.

England screamed, loud enough for the whole universe to hear him. His heart was split in two, a wrenching, burning feeling right through his whole body. He contorted, and made the chair he was tied to tip over. After much struggling, he got one of his hands free and reached towards America feebly. He felt like a child again, sobbing and screaming.

The noises coming from him were unrecognizable to be human.

The floor was wet with a puddle of his tears. He was pathetic. He was nothing.

"I love you... I love you... I love you..." He half sobbed, half screamed.

His heart was in two pieces. He was as good as dead. He was dead inside.

The sobs wracked his whole body, and a shadow built over him.

He looked up.

France stood there, looking down at the pathetic man.

"You will be tomorrow." He said simply.

"I'M LOOKING THE BLOODY HELL FORWARD TO IT, YOU FUCKING BUGGER!" England spat.

France called to the large man to take him to his cell.

As the man dragged him away, he craned his neck to get one final look at America.

"No... please NO! Let me at least touch him... PLEASE!" The door slammed shut.

England was all alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**SEALAND**

Sealand sat alone in his room, wondering what to do next.

He knew that England would be executed tomorrow, and that he had just lost America, his _favorite_. Sealand did feel a twinge of remorse for the loss, but not enough to bring out tears.

For as long as he could remember, England had paid almost no attention to him.

Well, that wasn't true. He rolled his eyes at him and yelled about how annoying he was.

Secretly, Sealand had always looked up to England. He wanted to be just as powerful and big as England when he grew up. It hurt his feelings terribly whenever he was shunned or scolded by his older brother...

He had joined France for one simple reason: revenge.

But now he was not sure if he had made the right decision. Perhaps he was so blinded by his anger to realize that he truly was not as angry as he had previously thought. Maybe he even felt... sympathetic to England.

Even now as he sat alone a long ways away from his cell, Sealand could still hear the sobs, the screams, the feeble threats.

He covered his ears, shaking from the pure heartbreaking sadness of the whole thing.

Suddenly there was a tap on the window.

Sealand stood up abruptly, not sure what to do. He took several steps closer, and saw a hooded figure outside, hunched next to the window.

He almost cried out for help, but the figure shook his head desperately and motioned for him to "zip it".

Sealand snapped his mouth shut, and walked towards the window cautiously.

He opened it.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sealand whispered.

Silence for a beat.

"I am here to request your help."

"With what?" Sealand demanded.

"This war is wrong. Flat out wrong. I need to find people to stop it from continuing."

Sealand could not recognize the voice in the shadows. He did not understand a word of what he was saying.

"How?" Sealand wondered.

"First, do you wish to be a member of The Society of Peacekeepers?"

Sealand thought it over.

Surely, if he was discovered to be a member of this mysterious group, he would be killed on the spot. Without question. Also, he did not even know what these people _did_. How could he promise allegiance if he didn't even understand? But he was tired of the fighting, and if it meant stopping all the sadness...

"Yes, I do, sir." Sealand said.

"Your first mission will be to rescue England."

Sealand was taken aback.

"Rescue? HIM?"

"Yes," The shadowed person answered. "And here's how you will do it..."

...

Sealand crept down the stairs to the basement. Everyone was asleep, but he knew if France caught him sneaking around like this he'd be done for. He could feel the riddles the shadowy man had given him in his pocket. To get to the headquarters, he need only follow the riddles.

But his first and foremost mission was to save this jerk.

Sealand could hear the sobs louder and louder every second.

He was getting close.

He stepped into the dark room where a cage held the weeping country. Oddly, there was no guard. When he closed the door behind him, the sobbing stopped for a moment. England looked up, puffy-eyed.

His green eyes had dark circles under them. His cheeks were wet from tears, and his hair was greasy and tangled.

He turned around, ashamed.

"Go away."

Sealand was shocked. No snide remarks? Not even a single insult?

"I-"

"Look, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to be alone. I actually feel like a child on Christmas eve! Now leave me alone. Get away from me."

"England, I'm here to-"

"If you're here to gloat, that's just below you. That would be downright evil, and I'm ashamed of you. Can't you see I'm suffering enough?! Get out of here."

"England, I'm here to rescue you!" Sealand rushed out.

England raised a bushy eyebrow, surprised.

He shook his head after a long moment.

"I appreciate the offer, but no, I don't want to be rescued."

"What? That's crazy talk! Let's get out of here before-"

"I don't want to be rescued. I can assure you I am quite sane at the moment. Get out of here before I yell and wake up France."

"You wouldn't." Sealand challenged.

"And why not?"

"Because I'm all you've got, England."

England stared at Sealand wide eyed. His eyes slowly began to get watery and he squinted to keep it from showing. Then, he couldn't hold it in anymore. He let tears fall down his cheeks.

Sealand squatted down and peered through the bars.

"Let me help you, England. Please."

"No! Go away!" England sobbed.

Sealand stood up.

"I did not want to do this, but you give me no choice."

England looked confused for a second, and then Sealand pulled out the tranquilizer gun that the shadowed man gave him (That guy thought of _everything!_). He shot it quickly, knocking England unconscious.

Sealand ran to grab the keys from the wall, found the correct one, and unlocked the metal door.

He slipped England over one shoulder and dragged him towards the window, grunting under the grown man's weight.

He opened the window and carefully slid England through the crack and onto the grass (since they were underground, the window was only big enough for someone to slide through on their back, and they would immediately make contact with the grass).

Sealand's heart thumped as he slid through the crack himself, and sat up in the grass, next to an unconscious England.

"Free!" Sealand whispered with triumph.

England snored a little, and Sealand stood up. He grabbed England's arms, dragging him into the darkness.

...

Sealand sat by the fire with the riddles out in front of him.

England was still asleep on the other side of the cave, curled up in a ball.

Sealand sighed, and thought about the riddles. He looked to the very first one, supposing that he would have to solve it first.

_Follow the map you see,_

_and to an island afar you'll be._

_Go deep south and there you'll find_

_A mystery that will soon unwind._

_A pretty girl with shells at hand  
_

_Will point you North and there you'll stand.  
_

Sealand did not understand the riddle, but he supposed that he could figure it out with some help.

He looked at the sleeping England and wondered what would happen when he awoke. Would he be angry? Of course! Would Sealand allow him to go back for his death? Absolutely not! He needed England to complete this mission. At least, that's what the hooded man had said... Sealand still was not sure why he needed England so much.

Sealand sighed, and continued looking at the riddle, piecing it together, little by little.

An island South from here... where could that be? "A pretty girl with shells at hand"... how could he possibly know that? Sealand sighed in disbelief at the difficulty of this riddle.

Suddenly, he could hear England beginning to stir.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHINA**

As Russia slept in the next room, China lay awake thinking.

What had Russia done? He'd killed both Poland and Lithuania, and then he had a plan to take out Germany and France in one big swoop. China just was not sure if it was... right.

Sure, China had had many terrible faults in his past. He'd killed lots of innocent people.

China felt something in his gut wrench whenever he thought of Russia hurting people. He always acted so... _nice_ towards China. In a way, after what Russia had done for him that day, China kind of steered clear of Russia. They ate meals together and made battle plans, but otherwise, China kept to himself.

China was also very sad about Japan.

He had raised Japan, and yet they always were on opposite sides in war. Before, he was in the Axis while China was an Ally. Now, China was the force Japan was trying to stop. China was evil in his eyes.

The thought brought tears to his eyes.

Suddenly, a rock was thrown at his window, startling China out of bed.

His heart began to thump.

He cautiously inched towards window, looking around to make sure Russia was not creeping around. He opened the window, and looked down. Far below, he could see a man with black hair and a white uniform. Japan!

"What are you doing here, Little Brother?" China called out in a loud whisper, so as not to wake Russia.

"Come down here at once." Japan ordered.

China looked down at the ground, two stories down. He could not jump, but he could always climb down.

China slipped a foot out the window, cautiously looking around. He slipped out, and edged across the rock edges that kept him from tumbling to the hard ground. Since he was agile, he could jump from edge to edge, gradually getting closer to the ground. Finally, he was about five feet from the ground, and he hopped off the wall, landing firmly on both feet, facing Japan.

"What do you want?" China whispered.

Japan cocked his head. "Why do you whisper, China-san?"

"If Russia were to wake and see you here, he would shoot you."

"Ah. I see," Japan said. "I am here to ask you to listen to reason."

"Reason?"

"_Hai. _You must understand that Russia is evil, China-san. I know for a fact that you are not evil. So it confuses me when you follow him."

"I..." China started. He thought for a moment. Why _did _he follow Russia? "I suppose it might be because he does what I say. He values me. I enjoy having power over someone. You must know that, Japan."

Japan sighed. "Yes, I do. But, please, do not be a fool. Any wrong moves on your part, and you could end up dead, just like Poland, Lithuania, and America."

"Wait, America is-"

"Yes," Japan nodded. "He died several hours ago."

China swallowed. "_Oh_."

America? The strongest country? He was so... powerful. How? _Who? _And where was England?

"Who?"

"France." Japan simply replied.

China nodded, holding his tears in.

"I should be going, China-san."

"I wish you well, Brother."

Japan bowed, and China did the same. Japan slowly walked into the darkness.

China took a deep breath.

He did not understand how serious this war was until now. If France killed America, then there was no limit to what he could do.

"Evil, huh?" Said a voice in the shadows behind him.

China turned, startled.

Russia stepped out into the dim moonlight. He was oddly handsome, with pale blonde hair and violet eyes. He was very tall, and very strong. His coat reached his knees. The crazed man smiled.

Not a pleasant smile.

A smile that let China know he was about to die.

_Hey! Author here. Okay, so I know this chapter is pretty short, and I'm really sorry about that. I just thought that China and Russia needed some drama, and Japan needed an appearance. _

_Again, leave a review with feedback! I always love to read comments, and I just like that people either enjoy my writing or they want me to improve it.  
_

_See you next chapter!  
_


	10. Chapter 10

**GERMANY**

Germany watched in wonder as Italy skipped through the grass, chasing a butterfly. **  
**

"LOOK GERMANY! He landed on this flower! It's so pretty, I could paint it! OOH! Remind me later to paint this butterfly on this flower okay? Isn't this fun? We get to spend this whole week together safe from the war and stuff! SO COOL!"

Germany sighed and called, "Ja..."

He could hardly believe that he was stuck here with this imbecile. He just spent all day skipping and prancing and cooking and painting. Oh, and eating. Germany could hardly believe how much pasta this skinny man could take in before he was full!

But Germany had to admit, this carefree lifestyle was a little bit... amusing.

"OW!" Italy yelled. "GERMANY THAT BEE STUNG ME HELP ME PLEASE OWWW!"

Germany stood up, and walked to Italy. He was sitting down in the grass, holding in tears and holding his own hand tenderly.

Italy thrust his hand out towards Germany, and Germany rolled his eyes and took Italy's hand. He examined the tiny wound, and carefully plucked out the stinger without hesitation. Italy yelped. Then he smiled again.

"Can you please kiss it so it'll feel all better, Germany?"

Germany looked at Italy in disbelief, hoping he was joking. As always, he was not. Germany sighed and kissed the boy's slightly red finger.

"YAY! ALL BETTER NOW, THANK YOU GERMANY!"

Italy hopped up and smiled up at Germany. He got on his tip-toes and kissed Germany on the cheek, making Germany blush.

Italy skipped away, chasing the butterfly once again.

Germany touched his cheek where Italy kissed it. He smiled a little.

Germany sat down once again. He decided to take this time to think about the strange occurrence on the battlefield. He hadn't seen Prussia in... years. He could remember the last time clearly.

...

_Germany had always looked up to his big brother. _

_Prussia was strong, powerful, and confidant. Everything Germany yearned to become.  
_

_But seeing him like this was a bit disheartening.  
_

_Prussia lay in bed, his battle wounds all bandaged up. He was very sick, so his face was pale. He was sweating, and babbling about things that made no sense to Germany.  
_

_Germany was a grown man, but for the first time in many many years, he felt like a small child.  
_

_"Prussia?" Germany said quietly, closing the door behind him.  
_

_Prussia looked over to Germany, and smiled.  
_

_"West! You came to see me!"  
_

_"Ja... What happened?"  
_

_"Damned Soviet Union again!" Prussia grumbled.  
_

_"Oh... You'll be okay, right?"  
_

_"Yeah! 'Course I will! I'm too cool not to be okay!" Prussia said.  
_

_Germany could tell from his prideful tone that he would not be okay at all. Apparently, worry must have registered on his face because Prussia said, "Come here, brother."  
_

_Germany walked awkwardly to his older brother.  
_

_Prussia embraced Germany tenderly.  
_

_"D-did I do a good job... raising you, I mean?" Prussia whispered, uncertain.  
_

_"Yes." Germany replied simply.  
_

_Prussia lied back, exhausted.  
_

_"Good," He sighed, and looked at Germany. "Look, we both know I'm pretty banged up here. I'll probably be okay, but just in case... I suppose you'll have to remember me, won't you?"  
_

_"What?"  
_

_"Don't forget me when I'm gone."  
_

_Germany was startled. So, he _was_ going.  
_

_"I-I won't." Germany promised.  
_

_"Also, if you're ever unsure of yourself, bro," Prussia smiled. "Pretend you're me."  
_

_...  
_

_Later on, Germany was reading at his house.  
_

_He heard a knock on his door.  
_

_He got up to answer it.  
_

_"Hello, Germany. May I come in?"  
_

_It was a doctor. Prussia's doctor.  
_

_"How is Prussia?" Germany asked, once they'd sat down.  
_

_"Germany..." The doctor took a deep breath. "Your brother is gone."  
_

_...  
_

Even though this occurred in 1947, Germany still remember it like it was yesterday.

Not a day had passed that he didn't think about Prussia. Germany still missed him terribly. The tears he shed that day were enough to last for the rest of his lifetime.

He could not remember a time when Prussia wasn't there. The farthest back memory he had was Prussia taking him somewhere, somewhere he didn't recognize.

Germany stood up and called out to Italy,

"I'm going out! I'll be back in a while, okay?"

Italy turned around.

"Ooh! I'll come with you!"

"I-" Germany was about to protest, but Italy ran over and looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Germany sighed. "Fine."

"YAY!" Italy yelled.

When they'd gotten into the car, Italy finally asked,

"So where are we going?"

"... to visit my brother." Germany replied quietly.

"Prussia? Why?" Italy replied, clearly confused.

"I need to talk to him."

Italy was silent for a moment, clearly thinking.

"But..." Italy put a hand on Germany's shoulder. "Germany, you _do _understand that your brother has been dead since 1947, right?"

Germany stopped the car abruptly. Italy looked at him, frightened.

Germany slammed him head into the steering wheel.

"Ja, I understand..."

"O-okay..." Italy said.

Germany wanted to cry, but he still couldn't find the tears anymore.

When they finally got to the graveyard, Germany stopped the car and got out without a word. Italy timidly followed him.

He knew where it was. It was the fifteenth on the left, two rows from the back. He had been here so many times in the past sixty years...

He sat down cross-legged facing the tombstone. It read "R.I.P. PRUSSIA 1525-1947 BELOVED BROTHER AND FRIEND". Germany took a deep breath to control himself.

"Hey, Prussia."

Silence.

"Why were you there, that day?"

Silence.

"I saw you, and I forgot that you were... I mean..."

Silence.

"I need you... You always were such a strong force in war... It would be great to have you here. I know you never will be, but... I miss you, Brother."

Silence.

"I know this is useless, but... I really want you to talk to me, somehow. If you can, please try."

Italy put a hand on his shoulder. Germany put his head in his hands, and almost cried. Italy moved to the front of him and gave him a hug. For the first time, Germany really hugged back. He buried his face in Italy's chest, while Italy muttered comforting things into his ear.

"So, I see you like dudes, huh, bro?" Said a familiar voice behind Germany.

_That sounds like... _Germany turned around.

"Hey, West." Prussia said, smiling.

Germany stood up.

"H-how...?"

"You admitted that you needed me, and you meant it this time. Here I am."

"Are you alive?"

Prussia smiled.

"Nah, but isn't this good enough?"

Italy looked a little bit startled.

"What's the matter, Little Guy? You look like you've seen a _ghost_!" Prussia threw back his head and laughed at his own joke.

Italy shook his head.

"It... certainly has been a while since I saw _you_." Italy admitted.

Germany was surprised, because Italy was not talking nearly as much as usual. What had come over him?

"Hey! Bro! How've you been?" Prussia smiled at Germany.

"I've been... fine?" Germany said. "I really need to ask you questions!"

"About what?"

"'About what'?! I need to ask you how you were always so triumphant! What was your secret in winning wars? Why were you so powerful?"

Prussia smiled.

"You're exactly the same, man," Prussia said. "Your problem, literally, your only problem, is that you have _no _confidence!"

"I have plenty of confide-"

"Save it," Prussia waved his hand. "If you want to be as utterly _awesome _as I am, then you have got to admit it to yourself first. Just say it, say how awesome you are!"

"..." Germany whimpered. "I-I'm awesome...?"

"Say it loudly!"

"I'm awesome." Germany said a little louder.

"YELL IT, MAN! LIKE ME! I'M SO FUCKING AMAZINGLY AWESOME THAT YOU WILL ALL BE CRUSHED BENEATH MY EPIC AWESOMENESS!" Prussia shouted.

"I'm awesome!" Germany yelled.

"There you go! If you go into battle with that attitude, there is no way you can lose!"

"But, Prussia?" Germany said.

"Ja?"

"You... you lost."

Prussia's grin fell from his face. He smiled weakly, and walked closer to Germany.

"I lost because I was too arrogant," Prussia sighed. "Be confidant, but don't be arrogant."

Germany nodded solemnly.

Prussia reached out his arms, asking for a hug.

Germany embraced him, tightly.

"Goodbye, brother." Germany said.

"See ya, bro." Prussia said, and he disintegrated.

Italy put a hand on Germany's shoulder once again.

"You gonna be alright?" Italy said, concerned.

Germany turned to face him.

"I am now. We all will."


	11. Chapter 11

**ENGLAND**

England opened his eyes, not quite sure where he was. The last thing he remembered was Sealand visiting his cell... but this wasn't his cell.

England sat straight up, and looked around frantically. He spotted Sealand sitting quietly by a fire, and they were in a cave.

"_You!_" England yelled at Sealand.

He got up and began walking towards the boy, not really sure of what he'd do to him. But it would not be pleasant, whatever he decided to do.

"W-wait! Let me explain!" Sealand pleaded.

England picked up the boy by his shirt collar.

"How _dare_ you?" England growled into the boy's face.

Sealand had a look of determination set into his face. He looked like a stubborn child. In fact, that was what he was.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?!" England screamed.

"I..." Sealand choked out.

"Do you even understand what is going on? Do you get that maybe I really am ready to die?" England demanded.

He couldn't believe he'd been brought here. He couldn't believe he'd been cheated this badly. Why couldn't he just die, and have nobody come a question it? Why couldn't _he_ have a happy ending?

He dropped the little boy, and turned his back to him. He fell to the ground, trying his hardest to hit his head. He didn't succeed. He let new tears fall from his eyes. They left a puddle on the ground. He could smell the fire burning behind him, and the smoke just made the tears worse.

"England...?" Sealand whispered.

"Go away, _wanker_!" England sobbed.

"England..." Sealand was coming closer.

"No!" England screamed, scrambling away.

He was suddenly full of sheer terror. He couldn't even understand why. The room was spinning, and he was feeling sick. There were three Sealands. He fell back again, hitting his head. This did not knock him out, only made the spinning worse.

He was drowning. Drowning in tears, memories, and his own filthy sadness.

The room spun at a steady pace, the light from the fire filling his vision. He screamed. There were shadows on the walls, moving towards him.

Ghosts! There were ghosts! Coming to him, all smiling wickedly as they closed in on him.

The colors from his surroundings all blurred into one, and the light was still there in the center.

There were faces on the walls.

He could see France, mocking him.

He could see Russia, grinning evilly.

He could see China, glaring with hatred.

He could see his whole world, laughing at him.

Even his magical friends, laughing, mocking. They poked him, and giggled at his sadness.

And then a hand reached out, offering to help him. It glowed in the light.

He followed the hand to its arm, which led to a shoulder, which led to a neck, then a face. It was _his _face. It was shining, and smiling. He was laughing too, but at something unrelated.

_C'mon, Iggy! Let's go! I wanna show you something! _

England took his hand, but it dissolved.

His world dissolved.

He was floating in nothing. Just a black, empty, nothing.

Then, he was falling. There was no ground, so he'd fall forever. He was hoping that lack of oxygen would kill him, but he was breathing fine. So there he was. Locked in this void. Alone with his thoughts.

Alone. Forever alone.

The spinning was gone, but his heart was beating very fast from falling.

Tears fell from his eyes, and they were not rolling down his face. They were flying off his face and into the void, as if he was the only thing that gravity could effect.

He was alone.

...

England woke up again, and saw a little blue-eyed boy staring down at him, looking concerned.

For a second, England's heart leaped. Was that whole thing a dream? Was it still the sixteen hundreds? Was America still a child, and would never ever leave him? Was that whole thing a nightmare?

But then, England noticed his eyebrows, which were undoubtedly similar to his own. Then he spoke in the same accent,

"England? Are you awake?"

England grumbled, remembering his situation. He rolled over, so he didn't have to look at this embarrassing excuse for a little brother.

"Go away."

"I can't, I need you." Sealand insisted.

"Why do you need _me?_"

Sealand sighed. He pulled out a piece of paper and held it out to him. England snatched it.

_Follow the map you see,_

_and to an island afar you'll be._

_Go deep south and there you'll find_

_A mystery that will soon unwind._

_A pretty girl with shells at hand  
_

_Will point you North and there you'll stand._

England raised an eyebrow. Was this some kind of riddle? Did they have to follow this like instructions?

"What is this?"

"A riddle. I'm supposed to follow this with you. The hooded man said I need you to get there."

"Get where?"

"The safe house." Sealand replied solemnly.

"Well, this one's pretty obvious. You should be able to do this on your own."

"OBVIOUS?" Sealand demanded.

England was shocked. This child... he was such an... idiot!

"Yeah, how could you not know that this is talking about Seychelles?"

Sealand's jaw dropped. England chuckled a little at how silly this child was. He was amazed by such easy things, and he was very innocent. all he wanted was to be safe... how adorable. But also quite annoying that he needed England to be safe.

"Wh-what's that?" Sealand said.

"What?"

"Seychelles?" Sealand asked.

"Oh... it's an old territory of mine. France took it though. I don't know if I want to go there..."

"Why not?" Sealand whined.

"France and Seychelles have always been very close. I don't care if France gets _me_, but you haven't done anything wrong, so there would be no sense in you getting captured."

"You owe me!" Sealand said.

"What do I 'owe' you for?" England chuckled.

"You... you left me alone! Why would you do that? And I still saved your stupid ass! You owe me big-time, you jerk!"

"I..." England was stricken. The smile had fallen from his face.

This child... he couldn't possibly understand even if he told him why. This boy has never felt pain like England had. He'd never had someone he loved and cared about basically tell him that he meant nothing, that all the years... all the love he'd given... meant nothing to him. This kid had never seen someone he loved be killed by his worst enemy. Hell, this kid probably had never even loved.

He could never understand how much it hurts him to look into his blue eyes, because they looked exactly like... _that guy's_.

"I..." England knew he deserved an explanation. He just couldn't even begin to form one.

Sealand stared at his patiently, but solidly.

England broke.

"You wanna know why, little boy? I just didn't want to feel the pain again! I didn't want to watch you go! I knew that if I raised you and help you become a powerful nation that you would leave me! I knew that if I grew too attached to you, like I had with _him_, that it would only hurt me terribly when you left me. I don't want to lose another person! It hurt before! It," he paused and took a deep breath, feeling tears stinging his eyes, burning his throat. "It still hurts.

"And on top of that, you look just the bloody hell like him! You have the same blue eyes and sand-colored hair! You are small like he was! You are upbeat and happy like him! You reminded me too much of him... and I couldn't handle losing him twice. I suppose now I realize that I was going to anyway, so what was the point?"

England put his head in his hands, and curled into a ball. He couldn't... think about the idiot too much. He couldn't even think his name.

He let his control go loose, and some tears fell.

Suddenly, someone small was hugging him. Thin arms wrapped around him, and a little head rested on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Sealand asked.

England felt like he was talking to America, and he was back to that first day.

"I... I miss him." England whispered.

"I know you do..." Sealand said.

"It's like... my heart is gone. There's just this empty nothing... except the empty nothing hurts like hell. My brain has been replaced by a picture of him, and I can't think of anything else." A tear fell from his eye again.

"You really loved him, didn't you?"

"More than anything... And..." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm scared I'll forget."

"You won't, I promise."

"No, but I... I can already feel him slipping away from me..."

England felt another wrenching in his chest, bringing out a brand new flow of tears. And he realized in an agonizing moment, that it was true. Already, he was starting to forget his voice. He had to wrack his brain to remember his laugh. He had thought those things would always be stapled into his memory, but they were drifting off... and he knew. He was... forgetting.

"We're going to be okay, England. I know it doesn't seem like it yet, but... we will." Sealand muttered into England's shirt.

England wrapped his arms around the little boy.

"I know we will."

After a long time of laying there, cradling Sealand, England could feel Sealand's breath even out.

"A-are you asleep?"

No response.

He looked at the innocent face of Sealand. He really did look exactly like... yeah.

"I won't screw up again, Sealand. I promise, I will keep you safe. I always will, no matter what."

He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHINA**

China sat silently, staring at Russia. He was completely calm and collected, but in an eerie way. He even smiled a bit.

China looked around the room, trying to distract himself.

The walls were nearly black, and the curtains were drawn. He was trapped. All that lit the room was a candle on a nearby table, lighting up half of Russia's face.

China swallowed, frightened by the larger country.

Still, even as he was approaching his downfall, China could not help but think about how handsome Russia was. His eyes, his hair, his body... China just wanted to be held by him.

He was like a Venus Fly Trap. He brings his prey in with his looks, and snaps them up.

China was shaking. _Just get it over with..._

"China.. You understand my being upset, da?" Russia smiled.

"Y-yes." China said, firmly.

Russia stood up and began walking towards China.

"Russia, I am very sorry! I did not mean to offend you! I am so so sorry! Please do not kill me!" China whimpered.

Russia stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked down at China, unsure.

"Kill you?" Russia whispered.

Russia's face twisted-just a little-with something China did not recognize. Pain? Sadness? Rage? Disgust?

"I... Is that... All you think of me?" Russia whispered, his violet eyes looking at China pleadingly.

When China did not reply, Russia ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

China stood up, still shaken. Is he... really not mad? Then why would he act so... strongly?

China opened the door a crack. He could not see Russia in the hallway, so he knocked on Russia's door.

"Russia? Are you there?" China asked, timidly.

"What do you want?" Russia said.

"I... want to know what's the matter."

China stepped back, and heard footsteps coming towards the door. Russia swung it open. His eyes were wet with tears.

"Russia..." China said.

"Do you see me as nothing but a monster?" Russia demanded.

"No! Of course not-"

"Do not do the lying to me. I know that it is true." Russia turned his back to China, ashamed.

"I..." China did not know what to say anymore. He wasn't sure why he came to this room. He wasn't sure why he didn't just sneak out when he had the chance. He wasn't sure why he felt so torn apart by the sight of Russia in tears. He wasn't sure about... anything.

"China, I could never, ever, ever hurt you. Do you know why I killed Poland?"

China shook his head no. Russia chuckled.

"I... I did it because I love you."

China's heart exploded in his chest. The warmth began in his heart, and it spread through his whole body. Making his fingertips tingle, his knees wobble, his face heat up.

He suddenly went from being unsure to being... sure.

"Oh." Was all he could choke out. He swallowed.

"Da. I saw him wanting to hurt you, and I could not stand it! I do not know what was coming over me..." Russia hid his face in his hands. "And you are correct to see me as a monster. I deserve it... I deserve to die."

"I... I don't see you as a monster." China stuttered.

"You... don't?" Russia said, hopefulness showing on his face.

"No... In fact I..." China swallowed. "I... I-"

Russia cut him off with a kiss.

China froze, his body stiffening. It had been so long since he'd been kissed...

After several moments of China being startled, he melted into Russia's arms.

He pulled away for a moment, and whispered, "Wǒ yě ài nǐ."

Russia smiled broadly, like a child.

He pressed his lips beck against China's.

Russia tasted of vodka and honey, a taste that China found oddly appealing. His lips were warm and soft, pressing into his at just the right strength...

His hands were pressed against China's waist, hugging him close. China, desperate to draw Russia closer, threw his arms around his neck.

China had never been kissed this... passionately, this lustfully...

The tumbled backwards, landing on the floor. They laughed against each others lips.

Russia pulled away gasping.

"I was so angry because Japan was trying to turn you against me. I... I only want to keep you safe."

China kissed Russia's cheek, making him smile sweetly.

"China... I'm scared." Russia admitted.

"What?" China was surprised. How could someone like Russia be afraid of anything?

"People will be out to get me... It is only a matter of time before... you know..."

China did know. They would come for him, and they would kill him.

"Let's not talk about that. For now, we are safe here, and I have you."

"Yes, that is true."

Russia kissed China once more. And they just lay there, kissing, for what felt to China like forever.


	13. Chapter 13

**ITALY**

"Germany! I see lights coming closer outside! Look!" Italy yelled.

Germany came closer to Italy, who shook, terrified.

Italy had been enjoying his time alone with Germany. It was very fun to have Germany spending time at his house! It was like a very long sleepover! Germany even tied his shoes in the mornings!

But tonight was the last night, and Germany was preparing to go back to war.

"Hmm." Germany said, peering out the window.

Suddenly, his eyebrows arched high.

"Italy, we need to get out of here." Germany whispered urgently.

"What? Why?" Italy squeaked.

"Now. We have to run."

Germany grabbed Italy's hand, and dragged him to the back door.

"Germany, what's going on?"

Germany rushed them both out the door, and closed it quietly behind them.

He was wearing his military uniform, while Italy was dressed casually in a button-down and jeans. Germany checked his belt, and seemed to relax a little when he felt his gun.

He grabbed Italy by the shoulders and said urgently,

"Italy, France is coming here. We need to get away, fast."

"What? Big brother would never want to hurt us! He's probably just wanting to visit..."

"Oh yeah? Then why did he bring his whole army?" Germany pointed at the lights closing in from far away. Italy could just make out the French flag.

Italy yelped, and tears began to well up in his eyes.

"This is no time for crying!" Germany whispered urgently.

Italy stopped the tears, and wiped is cheeks.

Germany was right, they had to get away.

He followed Germany through the garden and out the gate. They slipped away into pitch darkness.

"Germany! I'm scared! Hold my hand!"

Italy grasped Germany's hand as Germany led him through the darkness.

Suddenly, there were voices nearby.

Germany hit the ground, dragging Italy with him. He covered Italy's mouth with a hand, urging him to be quiet.

"I think they went this way, sir!" Said a man with a French accent.

Hushed voices.

"Germany? Italy? I just _know _you're out here somewhere." Said another man who was undoubtedly Big Brother France.

Tears of loss and fear fell from Italy's eyes, soaking Germany's gloves.

Then France was simply three feet away, but he could not see them.

"I know you're nearby, Italy." France said, turning his head directly towards them, but not seeing. He held a lantern.

He turned and the light shown brightly into Italy's eyes, making let out a little scream.

"Honhonhonhon!" France chuckled. "There you are!"

France's men had all left to search elsewhere, so he was alone. Germany looked him up and down, appearing to be searching him for something.

"Your fate will be the same as America's." France smiled.

"A-America?" Germany choked.

"Ah yes. He has been dead for several days now. I killed him." France said this as if he were gloating.

"America's gone?" Italy squeaked. Such a strong country! Gone! Somehow, Italy felt a little bit... hopeless now.

France pulled out a knife, not realizing what Italy knew. Germany had a gun.

Germany jumped up and cocked the hammer of his pistol and pointed it straight at France.

France dropped his knife.

"You really are not very good with warfare, are you?" Germany growled.

"I-I-" France stuttered.

"Get out of here. You have ten seconds to run, and then I'm shooting. I'm counting. Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven..." France turned and began to run away, but to his mistake, not fast enough. "Six... Five... Four... Three... Two... One."

Gunshot.

France dropped dead.

"Germany ran over to his body and said loudly,

"That is for all the trouble you have caused."


	14. Chapter 14

**ENGLAND**

England and Sealand had been at it for a month. They'd built boats, taken cabs, ridden trains, and even ridden ponies! But they were finally on the little island that was their destination. Seychelles.

England had grown more and more attached to Sealand over the past month. He was so energetic, so joyful, so adventurous... England smiled in spite of himself. It was like... going back in _time_.

He never thought he could care for a little boy in this way again.

But he was.

Sealand played in the water, laughing and splashing about. He seemed so happy there, and England smiled once again.

"England! Come on in! The water's great!" Sealand yelled.

"No thanks! I'll stay here, thanks!" England called back.

"Awww!" Sealand said.

Sealand went back to splashing around and playing.

It had always amazed England how much small things could entertain children. It was only water... but perhaps when you are young water is more than just water? Perhaps everything is more... important? It had been a very long time since England was a child, so he could not remember very well.

"England... look at this!" Sealand picked something up from the water.

England could not see it clearly, so he called out,

"Come show it to me, I cannot see it."

Sealand began running out of the water, and when he emerged his whole body was dripping with salt water. He had left his shirt in the sand, so he was only wearing his shorts.

He crouched next to England and displayed the tiny object in the palm of the child's hand.

It was a seashell. It was very pretty, with smooth, white edges.

England smiled at Sealand, who was overjoyed at his discovery.

"Isn't it COOL?" Sealand said in awe.

"I suppose it is." England said amused.

England heard a voice in the distance.

"Hello? Is someone there?" It called.

England stood.

"Over here!" England called back.

A girl burst out of the bushes. She had long dark hair with red ribbons in it. She was very pretty, and wore a blue dress.

"Hi there, England! What brings you to my country?" the girl said.

"Are you Seychelles?" Sealand asked.

"Yeah," The girl smiled. "Why are you guys here?"

Sealand pulled out the paper with the riddle.

Seychelles took it.

"Ah. I know about this... Um..." She thought for a moment. "I'm supposed to come up with a riddle for you... I didn't expect you guys to make it here alive, in all honesty. Okay... Uh... 'Go North by boat, by sea, by land, by train. The place you seek may be all that remains. Through war and rage and open fire, comes peace and neutrality to your desire.' I know it sucks, but that's all I can come up with."

England knew instantly where they had to go. Not much of a riddle, but okay.

"So England, how are things?" Seychelles asked.

England did not know how to respond to that. How were things? Terrible. Awful. Couldn't possibly be worse. Would he tell her that? Of course not.

"Ah... Could be worse." England said. It was a lie, but oh well.

"That's the spirit!" Seychelles grinned at him.

"Yeah..."

Sealand looked at her very closely.

"You're really pretty, you know." Sealand said, confidently.

She blushed.

"Oh... no I'm not... but that is very kind of you to say..." Seychelles said, growing quieter.

"Yeah you are! I'll bet even England thinks so! Right, England?" Sealand demanded.

England looked at her. He supposed she was pretty, but what exactly did people find attractive about girls? She had very silky looking skin, and she was curvy... Perhaps that means other men find her attractive? Seychelles looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah, you are pretty." England said flippantly. It satisfied the girl, because she turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Oh! That means a lot coming from _you_, England." She giggled, and England laughed nervously. "Would you two like to come to my house for a little while?"

Before England could reply, Sealand said, "Sure!"

"Great! Come on!" Seychelles chirped.

England and Sealand followed the girl to a small hut. They went inside, and it was indeed very cozy. The walls were not made of grass and sticks, as England had suspected they might be, but they were plaster, like any other wall. It was small, but very comfortable indeed.

"I'm sure you are both tired! Sit down!" Seychelles offered.

England cautiously sat, and Sealand plopped himself down comfortably.

Seychelles entered the room and sat down in a chair across the room.

"So, England, what's going on out there? I left because Big Brother was going insane. I'm sure you know what I mean..."

England's breath hitched a little, but he nodded and bit his lip.

"Where is America? I would have thought you two would be inseparable through this..."

Sealand stiffened and seemed to become very aware of England next to him.

_That name. Oh god, that name... _England stood up and ran out of the room before... Before...

He fell into a closet and slammed the door.

He stumbled onto the ground. The room was spinning and he gasped for air.

He hadn't... allowed himself... to think... that... name...

His cheeks were suddenly wet.

His throat clenched up. There were murmurings and gasps from outside, but he didn't care. He covered his ears, trying to close out the sadness and despair.

He screamed, trying to get the memories he'd so cleanly evacuated from his brain out of his head...

_The knife... _

_The blood..._

_His lifelessness..._

_He's... gone._

England let out a shuddering gasp.

No... It couldn't be. It was all just a joke. He was hiding somewhere, just waiting to come out and surprise England... He _had _to be...

But England knew he wasn't. England knew he would never come back.

There was a knock on the door.

"E-England?" Seychelles asked.

"What?" England sobbed.

"Let me in, I want to help."

"You can't do a bloody thing!" England screamed. "Just LEAVE ME ALONE."

Silence for a moment.

"No."

England's breaths were heavy and agonized. He wanted them to stop. He wanted everything to... stop.

"England... France is dead."

England choked out a small, "Huh?"

"Several weeks ago... Germany killed him."

England swallowed. Why didn't this satisfy him? Why wasn't he jumping with joy? He took a shaky breath a muttered,

"Okay."

"That's it?" Seychelles asked.

"France being dead doesn't in any way make it better. He's still... st-still..." England's eyes stung, and he let out more sobs before he could say the "D" word.

Seychelles opened the door.

She sat down next to England, still sobbing.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know."

"Yeah, well, now you do..." England muttered coldly.

"Look, England..." Seychelles sighed. "He wouldn't have wanted you to live like this."

England looked up at her with shiny green eyes. "I know."

"Then why do you?"

"B-Because..." How could he explain it? "The pain... It hurts... Every second... Every minute... Every hour... I love him more and more with each tick of the clock... But he isn't here so I can tell him..." England began sobbing again. He then proceeded to tell him and America's entire story. From his despair and worry about losing him to France, to America picking him over France, to the American Revolution, to the War of 1812, to World War I and II, to That Night.

Seychelles was even beginning to tear up. England's cheeks were soaked with a steady flow of tears.

She hugged him, unexpectedly. England accepted the embrace.

"I'm sorry, England."

England didn't say anything, he just continued to cry into her shoulder.

She pulled away for a second. "But you know what you have to do now?"

England cocked his head. "What?"

"You need to finish that mission."


	15. Chapter 15

**RUSSIA**

Russia looked across the room to see China reading something ferociously. His eyebrows scrunched together cutely, and he chewed on his finger nervously. Russia stood and walked to China, who hardly even noticed he was being approached.

Russia sat down beside China, who looked up, startled. He then smiled fondly.

"Oh," China laughed. "I'm sorry, I was just looking over these documents..."

"I noticed." Russia said.

Russia, on impulse wrapped his arms around China. China set the papers down and melted into the embrace.

Russia touched China's soft face, smiling as China's eyes shone with adoration.

"You're beautiful." Russia said, voice dripping with awe.

China blushed.

Russia thought the way his eyes dropped to the ground and his cheeks turned bright red was absolutely... captivating.

Russia let his fingertips touch China's chin, and pulled his head up to face him gently.

The smaller man's lips parted a little, and he leaned closer.

Russia grinned and closed the gap between them.

The kiss began soft and gentle, slowly building up to a passionate entanglement of their tongues and bodies.

Their tongues twisted together rapidly. China tasted absolutely delicious.

China pulled away for a second and laughed.

"Why are you so enthusiastic, Russia?"

Russia grinned. "I want to spend every single moment I can in your arms. Also, when you read like that... You look quite sexy."

China blushed and looked down.

"I was reading this." China held up the document for Russia to see.

It was an article about Switzerland.

Russia snatched it and skimmed through it quickly.

"Switzerland is becoming a great power? _Really?_" Russia scoffed.

"Yes," China nodded. "He is taking refugees in. He is creating an army, I suspect."

Russia chuckled. "That man is weak, China. That is just a rumor. It is really nothing to worry about."

"Better safe than sorry is all I'm saying." China pointed out.

Russia stopped and thought for a minute.

Perhaps Switzerland could be creating an army... Is it possible? Could such a coward become a force against him? Could Switzerland be the one who unites the nations to... kill him?

China nodded, as if reading Russia's mind.

"We need to take control of Switzerland." China said, firmly.

"Da." Russia agreed.

...

China and Russia waited patiently outside of Switzerland's house. They had guns, and were well prepared to face this man.

Russia saw China out of the corner of his eye trembling out of fear.

"What is wrong, China?"

"I..." China said reluctantly. "I am afraid that our suspicions are correct and... He will kill you."

"No, that will not happen. There won't be any killing tonight." Russia kissed China's forehead, making him sigh.

"I love you..." China whispered, giving Russia a hug.

"I love you too, China. So, so much..." Russia held China tightly, trying to make him feel as safe and warm as possible.

Suddenly, a window opened.

"I know you're out there." Someone growled firmly.

Russia and China held their breath.

"Come out immediately or I'll shoot." The voice was insistent, more firm this time.

Russia grasped China's hand and stood slowly.

Switzerland glared at them aiming a rifle straight at them.

"Ah. It's you two," He said, disgusted. "Get out of here."

"Switzerland, hand over any weapons you have or we'll have to take them by force." China said, voice shaking a little.

Switzerland didn't budge, just aimed the rifle straight at them.

"Switzerland, we all know you are doing the bluffing with us," Russia chuckled. "Just put down the gun and pledge your allegiance to our cause. Very easy, da?"

"Go!" Switzerland yelled.

Russia didn't move, and he grabbed China's arm.

"We will not be moving from the spot until you surrender." Russia said.

Switzerland narrowed his eyes. "Fine by me." He closed the window and walked out of sight.

Russia let out a deep breath.

"He cannot hide forever. We'll need to invade at dawn, when he least expects it." Russia sates.

"Good idea. But I believe we should get some sleep first."

"Agreed. I'll have first watch. You sleep a few hours, then me, da?" Russia grinned.

"Sure. Be safe." China got on his tip-toes and kissed Russia. Russia wrapped his arms around China's waist, and pressed his lips deeply against China's. He let go of China's waist, and China lied down on the ground.

"Good night. See you in a few hours, my darling." Russia smiled.

China yawned and fell asleep.

Russia sat several feet away, leaned against a tree.

God, China was so beautiful. His skin shone in the moonlight, and it looked so soft... Russia wanted to touch him and love him endlessly. But he could not. Not yet. They first had to win this war, and rule the world together. They would become one, and Russia would make sure his love was safe from all the harm in the world. They would at last be free and together and disgustingly, beautifully in love.

Russia sighed and smiled, imagining it.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a door closing. Footsteps in the other direction. Someone was fleeing!

Russia stood up quickly.

He hurried over to see what the commotion was.

He looked around the empty garden, not sure where the person could have gone.

"Come out, for it will be better if I do not find you instead, da?" Russia said.

"What do you want?" Demanded someone from behind Russia.

Russia wheeled around, and Switzerland was standing before him in the pale moonlight.

"Good evening, Switzerland." Russia smiled slyly.

"You heard me. What do you want?" Switzerland said, angrier.

"Your land, your service, and your army." Russia replied cheerily.

"Over my dead body!" Switzerland yelled, clenching his fists. He had his rifle, like always, Russia noticed.

Russia only smiled, knowingly.

"Surely that can be arranged," He paused, and pointed to Switzerland's rifle." Now, what exactly are you planning to do with that?"

Switzerland whipped out the rifle, suddenly being reminded that it was there. He aimed it straight at Russia, hands shaking.

Russia smirked.

"You know you won't do it."

"And why not? I have every reason to-"

"Because you are a coward. You are nothing but a weak country who hides behind his own neutrality. You put up a tough guy act but," Russia smiled, eyes sparkling with laughter. "I am not easily fooled."

The blood drained from Switzerland's face.

Then, as if someone had flipped a light-switch, his expression changed. His frightened eyes had storm clouds in them, anger and insanity burning beneath his green irises. His stony expression became a grimace, and his silent lips let out a cry of rage and frustration.

Russia heard a click, and then, his chest felt warm.

It stung.

He fell to his knees, the pain growing stronger and stronger, taking over his body.

His hands touched the center of his agony, and his gloves were suddenly red.

Everything was red.

The edges of his vision darkened, he saw Switzerland stalking closer to him, the wind blowing his blond hair to one side.

"Stay off my land." Switzerland said firmly, without emotion. Tears fell from his steely eyes.

Russia gagged, and blood fell from his open mouth.

More red.

He fell onto his back, breathing heavily, except the breaths did nothing for him.

His muscles weakened with every blink, every struggling breath, every drop of blood.

The blackness continued to tug at his vision.

The pain was gone, no longer searing through his middle. It weakened to a dull throb. He knew it was there, but he did not care.

He stopped struggling to breathe.

He felt... at ease.

He only wished to see the beautiful face of his love... one last time.

He could not feel his arms. Could not move them. Warm blood fell onto them, staining every inch of his shirt.

Russia found that he could not move his body at all, and his breaths became farther and farther apart.

His lungs were screaming for oxygen, but it felt a little bit... sweet.

Russia used the last of his strength to smile at the dark sky, trying to count the stars. They shone and glimmered.

_So... _He wondered. _Was my life worth this? _

He thought about how poor and small he once was. He thought abbout his big sister, Ukraine. What would become of her? He thought about young Belarus. He hoped she would find someone to replace him in her fragile heart. He thought about the Soviet Union. He thought about meeting China.

China.

China.

_China. _

A tear fell from his eye, and dripped down his cheek.

Russia wanted to hold China, to kiss him. He needed to see him... once more.

He sighed.

He could not hear anything. All was peaceful and quiet.

_So... This is what it feels like... to.. to.._

And hen, all that he could see... was stars.


	16. Chapter 16

**ITALY**

The light bounced off the trees, off of rocks, off of everything.

He could hear running water.

He didn't recognize where he was, but it was beautiful here.

Italy smiled and plopped down in the grass. He began picking flowers. He hummed to himself as he tied them into a flower hat.

He placed his creation on his head, and stood up. He skipped around, smelling flowers, looking at pretty rocks, and singing. It was so pretty there! He wished Germany was there too, so he could see this pretty place!

"I-Italy?" A voice croaked from somewhere behind him. Italy turned around quickly, starting to panic.

"Who's there?! Who said that?!" He squeaked.

A tall man stepped into the light. He had blond hair, and blue eyes that shone brighter than the sky above. He wore all black, and his cape went to his knees. He had messy hair, and it was tucked under a black hat.

Italy knew who this was. He was so familiar, so perfect, he couldn't be anybody else.

He ran to him, and in a second, he was consumed by the strong arms that somehow felt so familiar.

He realized he was crying, and wiped the tears into his black shirt.

He shuddered and sobbed, disbelieving.

"Where... have you been?" Italy gasped.

"Does it matter? I am here now, Italy. I'll never leave you again."

"I missed you so much, Holy Rome..." Italy inhaled his scent deeply.

Holy Rome held him tighter. "I missed you too." He kissed him on the forehead.

He looked up into those blue eyes, and they smiled down at him. He gasped, feeling a weird sense of familiarity. Why... Why did he feel like... He saw them every day... The looked exactly like...

He didn't have time to finish his thought, because his lips were being crushed by Holy Rome's.

Italy suddenly was laying on the ground, unsure where he was. He felt sleepy... So that was a dream?

Italy felt his cheeks, and they were wet with his tears. More slipped out, as the memories flooded back to him. Memories he hadn't allowed himself to think of. Memories... that was all they were.

But... he wasn't alone. For a second, he thought that it was real and he'd just woken up in Holy Rome's arms again. But no, he was cuddled into Germany. He snuggled in closer, smelling his chest. _Mmm... _He thought. It smelled the same.

But this was Germany, and Germany would never love him like Holy Rome did...

Italy sighed, and Germany's eyes fluttered open. He looked at Italy with sleepy blue eyes. He held him tighter and closed his eyes again.

But then, they shot open and he stiffened. He jumped up and took several hurried steps backwards.

He was breathing heavily, and he calmed down a little. He cleared his throat and awkwardly said,

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Germany!" Italy chirped, smiling.

Italy skipped closer to Germany and looked around.

"Where are we?" Italy asked.

"...I don't know..." Germany said, clearly still embarrassed.

They had been traveling, hiding from other countries. Germany was getting restless, Italy could tell. The only reason he wasn't out there fighting was because of... him. Italy knew that he was holding Germany back from what he really wanted to be doing, but whenever Italy tried to convince Germany it was okay to leave him, Germany wouldn't hear it!

Every day, Germany had grown more and more restless.

Germany pulled out his map, and looked at it for a few seconds.

"Ah!" He said.

"What is it?" Italy questioned cheerfully.

"We're in... what used to be France."

Italy went quiet. He looked at the scenery. It was... beautiful here.

He thought of his time as a child, when Holy Rome would pick on him, and France would stand up for him. He thought of France always being so kind to him...

A tear slipped down Italy's cheek and his heart ached. Germany... his best friend... had killed his brother. Why was he so okay with that? Shouldn't he be angry, be seeking revenge?

Italy knew he could never do that.

Germany looked over at Italy, who now had tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I-Italy? Are you okay?" Italy did not respond. "Is it about France?"

Italy nodded, and put his head in his hand, trying to suppress the stinging in his throat, trying to stop the tears from coming.

Germany walked closer to Italy. Italy's throat stung as it tightened, and he couldn't breathe. His eyes stung. The tears he could not control fell down his cheeks.

Germany sighed, and in one swift move, hugged Italy close.

Italy lost control, and he sobbed. He let out loud, choking sobs into Germany's shirt, just like in his dream. Except now they were out of a mixture of sadness for his brother's loss, and happiness that Germany cared enough about him to comfort him.

"Italy..." Germany sounded guilty.

"Yes?" Italy asked, interested.

"I..." He took a deep breath. "I am taking you to Switzerland."

"What?" He asked. "Why?"

"So you can be safe. I... I can't lose you... not aga-" He stopped himself. Italy was confused. When had Germany lost him before? "Never mind. I just... You have to be safe."

Italy squinted. He shook his head. "No. No, you can't... You can't do this..."

"I'm sorry, Italy. But... if I lost you... I'd never forgive myself."

"Germany... I wanna stay with you..." Italy whined.

"You have to go to Switzerland. We're traveling there. I decided last night."

Italy sighed.

"Fine. But you have to go too."

"I have to fight this war. Russia and China must be stopped."

Italy shook his head.

"But... Is there even anyone left?"

Germany's face fell. He ran his hands through his blonde hair. He began to pace.

"I don't know. I... I have no idea who is and is not... alive anymore." Germany said in disbelief.

Italy was quiet. He realized that he did not know where Romano was, or how he was faring. Was he alive?

Italy looked away. What if... if he left Italy at Switzerland's house... would Italy... not know if Germany was alive? If he died, would he die without Italy ever knowing? Without proper grieving or love or... having a chance to be saved? Would Germany just be... gone?

Italy couldn't lose someone this way again.

He could not have someone he... _loved_... walk away again. Just to die. No... never again.

He started to cry again, and he knew that this time, he wasn't alone in tears.


	17. Chapter 17

**ENGLAND**

England couldn't help but feel a huge sense of accomplishment when he stepped over the very last hill, and could see Switzerland's house in the distance.

Sealand beamed behind him, clearly ready for this adventure to end. They had been traveling for two whole months.

England knew that he would be leaving Sealand here, and then... he'd be totally free. He'd be able to just go and... he didn't even know. Probably something stupid like throw himself at Russia and China. That should do it.

He couldn't help but smirk triumphantly whenever he thought of France, dead, on the ground.

_That's what you get, you bloody frog. _

England grinned remorsefully, thinking back on the days he'd spent with his little brother. He felt so horrible that he hadn't been a big brother to Sealand before this. He really needed-they both did-the comforts of family. It was all they had now. And England was about to take away Sealand's family.

But Sealand had told him it was okay. That's what England kept telling himself.

He sighed.

Sealand began to skip down the hill, yelling about how excited he was to meet the other countries there.

_Please raise him well, Switzerland. _England hoped.

England had given much thought to what would happen today. Would he just leave him and run when nobody noticed? Just slip out of the building, never to be seen again? Would he even be able to say goodbye?

Sealand was already halfway down the hill, so England decided to run after him. No use in avoiding the unavoidable.

"What do you think it's like in there?" Sealand asked at the bottom of the hill, breathing heavily.

England smirked. "I've been in there. Switzerland is a nice man, he'll treat you well."

Sealand smiled hugely.

He knocked on the huge wooden door.

There were footsteps and shouts inside, yelling for someone to answer the door.

Finally, Switzerland answered.

He looked very tired, and his eyes were full of guilt and sadness. He looked ten years older.

"Why, hello, Switzerland."

Switzerland nodded firmly, as if to say hello.

"We were given this mission, and it has led us here." England said.

"Oh. That was me who gave this to you, Sealand." Switzerland said directly at the little boy.

"Wow! Why were you wearing the hood?"

"I did not want my identity to get out. I wanted to keep the peace in the world, but still remain neutral."

"Oh, I see." England said.

Sealand nodded.

"So, what was the point of this whole shenanigan?"

Switzerland smiled. "To get you all to spend your time traveling around rather than fighting."

Sealand and England's jaws dropped.

"So that was all... for nothing?"

"No, not exactly." Switzerland smirked. England did not know what he meant, but he brushed it off.

Switzerland led them inside. As if in slow motion, England stepped past most of the countries. Sweden and Finland were together, Denmark, Iceland, and Norway were near them. Spain sat alone, staring out a window, spirit seemingly broken. Canada hugged Mr. Kumajiro to his chest. Ukraine was sitting alone, crying. Many more were scattered about, crying, talking, staring at walls.

England looked at Spain once again. He was alone too. England knew that face anywhere. He imagined he wore it this very second.

It was the "Please just kill me now" face.

England sighed. At least it would be over soon. Just as soon as Sealand got settled, he was off.

Alas, that did not take very long.

Soon after they arrived, Sealand was off telling everyone all about their travels here.

England smiled at Sealand, who just barely caught his eye. England waved and mouthed a small goodbye. Sealand's grin fell, and he began to walk towards England, but England turned his back and walked out of the room.

He slammed a fist against the wall in the hallway. The door was right there. All he had to do was open it and leave...

"Mr. England?" piped up a small voice.

England turned to see Liechtenstein looking up at him.

"Yes?"

"Big Brother requests your audience in his office.

England sighed. He supposed that a quick visit couldn't hurt.

He allowed the small girl to lead him through the dark hallway, her hair bouncing up and down as she walked.

The walls were gray and the floor was wooden. It was slightly chilly.

Then, the stood in front of a door, and Liechtenstein motioned to it.

"Here it is."

"Do you know what he wants?" England asked.

She just shrugged, bowed and hurried away.

England took a deep breath and opened the door.

England blinked, eyes adjusting to the light in the room.

There stood Switzerland in front of a wooden desk, the dark circles under his eyes still deep and prominent.

"Hello, Switzerla-" England began. He stopped, and his mouth fell open.

Next to Switzerland, someone sat in a chair, looking him right in the eye.

He felt tears begin to fall from his eyes, tears he'd banished for such a long time.

He turned his back, not wanting to even _hope... _He heard someone stand up. He couldn't allow himself to get his hopes up. He couldn't even imagine...

More tears fell down his cheeks.

"You aren't real."

He heard silence behind him. Then, slow, careful steps. He knew he was dreaming, this couldn't possibly be real... He'd just wake up like he always did when this happened.

He'd dreamed of this so many times, but it never hurt any less when he did.

He was only fooled over and over again.

In his dreams, they'd get closer and closer until they were about to touch, to embrace... then he'd wake up.

But something surprised him.

England felt strong, shaky arms wrap around his wist, someone resting their head on top of his, smelling his hair deeply. England choked out a sob and lowered his head. He crossed his arms.

He just cried, because his mind had never been this cruel to him.

His mind had never tricked him like this, made him hope, _want_, so badly.

He cried and cried and cried.

"Shh... It's okay..."

"England bawled. He was cold and stiff, not allowing anything beyond the walls of his heart. If he turned around, if he gave in, then he'd only go away. England knew he was dreaming. It wasn't real at all.

Suddenly, England was forced to spin around to look someone square in the eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of blue he'd ever seen in his life. They stared into his soul, into his heart. England knew those eyes. He'd know them anywhere.

_My memories of him really must be pretty strong... _England thought sadly.

England couldn't breathe. He could only stare, wide-eyed.

The man closed the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly against England's. For once, England knew that this was a dream that would last a little bit longer. He'd still wake up, but he could at least enjoy himself while he was here.

England kissed back eagerly, more tears squeezing from his eyes. His heart ached so much for the real thing...

The man pulled away and hugged him close, making England inhale his scent. Oh god... He even _smelled _real. Bubble gum. Fried food.

The scent made him dizzy, intoxicating him.

England smelled again.

He gripped the man tightly, never wanting to let go.

It was only then that he even allowed the slightest notion that perhaps... Maybe... This wasn't a dream.

"England." _He _muttered, love and joy bubbling through that one word.

England inhaled again, accepting the truth of this situation. He knew then. He just... knew. More tears streamed down his cheeks. Tears of betrayal. Tears of loss. Tears of relief. Tears of... love and joy and passion and everything good mixed into one.

He hadn't even noticed when Switzerland had slipped from the room.

"America..."

...

England lay on America's chest, trying his hardest to still believe that he was real.

Since America wore no shirt, England could see the scars. There was a large scar at the base of his throat, and one just off to the left of his chest. England kissed them, stroked them. It was just like France to miss America's heart with the knife.

America kissed England's forehead, smiling hugely.

England missed that smile so much more than he'd realized. He enthusiastically kissed him again.

"Woah, I'm never leaving you alone again... you got sort of desperate." America chuckled.

"Idiot! It isn't my fault! I had just gotten you and then you went and _died..._" England said, annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah." America rolled his eyes, still smiling.

England was about to protest some more, but America silenced him with a kiss.

England pulled away again.

"Wait... so Switzerland saved you?"

"Yeah..." America scratched his neck. "I guess I was bleeding pretty bad, and they just dumped me outside. I wasn't dead yet... Pretty close though. I was suffering a lot, and calling out for you. They dragged you away before I could tell you I was still alive. But _damn_ getting stabbed hurts! So yeah, Switzerland found me outside, and he told me if I wanted to live I'd come with him. I asked if you were coming. He said that he'd make sure I saw you again. So I went with him... Well, more he just dragged me away. They sewed up my wounds and now I'm all better. Got the stitches off yesterday!"

England hugged him tighter.

"I love you, you know that?" America whispered. "I could never have left you like that."

"I love you too, you git." England said, smiling despite himself.

He was just so glad. Glad to be alive. Glad to be here. Glad that he was safe. Glad that America was safe. He was _glad. _

"I'm never, ever going to leave your side again." America said.

"Forever?" England asked hopefully.

America smiled, a bright, beautiful smile that made his blue eyes light up.

He knew. He knew he'd be okay. He knew that they'd spend the rest of their lives like this, with each other.

"Forever." America promised.

Unfortunately, forever might not be as long as England might hope.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHINA**

China had awoken alone, the sun high in the sky.

"Russia?" He called out. No reply.

He stood up, not sure what to do or where to go. Where could he be? Why hadn't he woken China up last night like he'd promised?

A terrible thing occurred to China, but he shook it away.

"Russia?" He called out, a little louder.

Still nothing.

He started walking around, searching bushes and behind rocks and under trees. No sign of him.

China was starting to get worried.

The possibility itched at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away more forcefully. _No. That couldn't be why._ He swallowed hard.

"Russia?" He called out once more. Tears began to form in his eyes.

He turned around and spotted a scarf on the ground, peeking from behind a corner. It was Russia! Of course, he'd only fallen asleep! He must have heard something and fallen asleep while searching.

China walked closer, and was just ready to shake him awake. He was so relieved that he was laughing.

The laughing stopped when he saw the blood.

He collapsed to his knees beside Russia.

Blood. Blood everywhere. It was no longer flowing, but it was all over his clothes, his shirt, and it pooled on the ground, getting on China's hands, his trousers. He tried to shake Russia awake.

"Russia! Wake up! Please, Russia!" He begged.

No reply. His eyes were staring blankly at the sky. They had glazed over, no life in them.

China touched his cheek, not sure whether or not to believe it.

It was cold as ice. No. Cold as a dead corpse. Because that is what it was.

China could not find the tears. He did not have enough of them to express evenly how he felt inside.

Oh, how he wanted to cry, to scream. The agony. The pain, oh the pain. It was too much for him to take all at once. The grief was crushing him. He felt thousands of years older, all of a sudden. His heart hurt, and his eyes stung. But no tears came.

Then, the pain was replaced by something stronger. Much stronger.

It rose in him, the fire.

It ate up his heart.

He then felt nothing, loved nothing. It was all a joke. He stood up, fists clenching and unclenching. He shook fiercely.

He wanted to break something. Better yet, _someone_. Even better, the specific someone who had done this. Whoever had the cold, empty heart that could do something this horrific had to die. Immediately.

Someone, somewhere, would pay.

Words like love meant nothing to him now. _What is love?_ He thought in disgust. Such things no longer existed in this world.

Revenge.

Yes, sweet, beautiful revenge.

He would kill. He would destroy. Make someone suffer as much as his sweet Russia had.

He bent down and gently closed each of his beautiful violet eyes, staring into each one, wanting to remember how they looked for the rest of his life.

He kissed each closed eyelid.

"Goodbye, Russia." He whispered.

He stood again, turning his back and walking away.

Just when he got to a spot where he could no longer see Russia, he slammed his fists into trees, combed his hands through his hair, and paced.

His knees where shaking, his heart was thumping, his teeth were tightly clenched.

He cried out and kicked a tree with all the force he had. He left a dent in the bark.

"Would you calm down!?" Someone snapped from behind him.

China turned, surprised.

Leaning against a tree was Belarus.

"W-Wh..." China sputtered.

Belarus wiped a tear from her cheek. Her eyes were red. She'd been crying.

"You want to avenge, da?"

China clenched his teeth, composed himself slightly, and nodded.

"Then come with me. Revenge is what we shall have." She beckoned to him.

He hesitated.

"You hate me." He accused.

She glared harder. "Da, but we share the same goal now."

China paused again.

"W-Who did this?" He growled.

"Switzerland. I saw it with my own eyes, but I was too late."

China's eyes widened.

Switzerland? _Really?_

China shook his head. He was too blinded with rage to ask questions. All he really wanted was someone to kill, someone to take it out on. He needed to make the whole world understand his pain.

He would expect to be crying.

But no. There were no tears. Only anger.

"He. Will. Pay." China growled once more.

...

China was in a plane. It had been a day since the discovery of Russia's death, and still no tears had come.

He was actually happier than he'd felt all day at that moment.

He knew he'd have revenge soon.

He smiled in spite of himself.

Belarus sat beside him, the same evil grin plastered to her face.

They were both half-mad with grief.

They were tired.

They were hungry.

They were in a bomber.

It was a perfect recipe for disaster.

They would be over Switzerland's house in about two minutes. China sighed, ready to get this over with.

Normally, he'd be concerned with all the innocent countries inside. He'd feel bad about killing every last one of them. His friends. His siblings. His enemies. But this was not a normal circumstance. He felt nothing for them. He knew that their blood would be on his hands, but frankly, he already had enough on his hands to last a lifetime. Russia's blood, still staining his hands and trousers.

In a way, this was comforting to China. A small part of Russia was still with him.

Belarus said something.

"What?" He said.

"I said," she yelled. "_now!_"

And let me tell you, China never felt better pressing a red button.


	19. Chapter 19

**ENGLAND**

England was so happy.

He'd spent the last day and a half in America's arms, holding his hand, touching him, kissing him... It was pure heaven. England couldn't imagine a life better than what he currently had.

England sat next to America on the wooden ground of Switzerland's house, quietly talking about their past, their present, and their future. They knew one thing; they would never again part. Not for anything.

England leaned into America's shoulder, an arm around him pulling him close.

"I love you, England." America said, kissing his forehead tenderly.

"I love you too." England smiled up at him.

Again, the blue eyes. He'd never get over those sparkling, dazzling blue eyes.

As if reading his mind, America whispered, "I love your eyes."

England blushed. "W-why?"

America shrugged. "They're such a beautiful shade of green... like emeralds. Like grass on my birthday... So happy, always reminding me of really good times AND really bad times..." He trailed off, and looked away.

"W-what's wrong?"

America shook his head. "Nothing."

England accepted that and continued talking to him.

Across the room, Spain sat, arms crossed.

His look of pitiful despair had evolved into something more. Hopeless worry.

He looked at them, perhaps a bit of jealousy showing on his face.

England stood up and walked over to him quickly telling America he'd be right back.

Spain stared at him blankly, rather than smiling warmly like he always had before.

"What's up, England?" Spain said, his voice in a monotone, but he made a slight effort to sound alive.

England bent over to make eye-contact with him.

"Are you okay...?"

Spain shook his head, smiling a little. "No, I am absolutely not okay, man."

"What's the matter?"

Spain sighed and once again looked out the window, seemingly trying to concentrate on the horizon outside.

He lowered his voice to a whisper.

"I... look for him every day. Coming over that hill. He never comes... He said... But... I shouldn't have let him go alone... Oh god what have I done..." His voice cracked and a tiny sob choked out of his throat.

"W-what?" England stammered, unsure of what to do.

Spain turned around and said, barely audible to England face, "Oh, England... It's bad. I let him go..."

"Who?!" England choked.

"R-Romano... He got mad at me for wanting to come here... and he left. I let him go, thinking he'd come running back. He didn't... Oh god... It's _all my fault_!" He started to cry again.

England hugged him lightly, trying to comfort him awkwardly. Spain clutched at his sides, crying into England's shirt.

"What do I do?" He wailed.

England did not know what to say. Then, it occurred to him.

"Maybe he's trying to get back to you right now."

Spain sniffled.

"Y-you think?" Spain sounded pathetically hopeful.

"Sure... Maybe he was sent on a mission like I was. You never know, he could be just over that hill, ready to come back to you."

Spain's eyes lit up.

"_Si_! I will wait right here for him!"

He turned around and didn't say anything else, just continued staring out the window.

England shook his head and walked back to America, who cocked his head.

England shrugged at him, letting him know he wasn't even quite sure of what had just happened.

America took him back into his arms, resting his head on top of England's.

"I-is that what you looked like while I was gone?"

England squinted at Spain, thinking for a second.

"Something like that. More crying though, but when I wasn't, that's pretty much how I was."

America's eyes widened, and he frowned heavily, his brow scrunching up.

"O-oh..." America said, suddenly very sad-sounding.

"Eh? What's the matter?" England wondered.

America waited a moment.

England then felt a wet drop on the top of his head. He looked up, and America had slow tears rolling down his cheeks.

England turned to face him, clutching his shoulders, shaking him lightly.

"Hey! What's the matter, America?!" England demanded.

"Oh..." America managed. His voice was pained. "I-I'm so sorry..."

England got close to him again. He wiped tears away frantically with his hands.

"No! Don't say that! It's not your fault! There's nothing you could have done!"

America continued to cry.

"I c-can't even imagine... what you must have felt."

England laughed a little, taking America's face in his hands, fingers gently stroking his cheeks.

"America, I'll tell you how it felt. It felt like there was no reason for anything, and my heart was an empty space. Except the empty space hurt like hell. Every second it hurt more and more. The pain was almost unbearable... And on top of that, I was stuck trying to force myself to act alive."

America was quiet again.

More tears fell from his eyes.

"I'm so sorry..." America whispered.

England decided he couldn't argue here. He hugged him close, as if he were still a tiny child.

"It's okay... I have you now and you have me... We're safe."

America sniffled and took England's face in his gentle, shaking hands. "Yeah... Forever. And Iggy?"

England's heart jumped at the mention of his old nickname. "Yes?"

"I... I love your accent."

England blushed. Oh goodness... He hadn't expected that comment. His accent? What about it?

"M-my accent...?" He stammered, face bright red.

America laughed.

"Yeah, it's so cute!"

"Oh..." England said, not sure whether to grimace or let a goofy smile show on his face.

America kisses him firmly. "You're so adorable, England."

England blushes more deeply, but kisses America back.

Suddenly, England heard sirens. America stopped and pulled away, looking around confused. England stood up.

Everyone was running.

Panic.

Fear.

Screaming.

"Oh my god! A bomber! It's Chinese! What are they doing?!" People screamed.

"Everyone, calm down!" Switzerland yelled into a megaphone.

All the countries turned to look at him, eyes wide with terror.

Liechtenstein huddled at Switzerland's side.

"What is going on, Switzerland?" Finland called out, an arm around Sealand. England looked over at his little brother, who was trembling with fear. Sweden hovered protectively over them both.

"I..." Switzerland took a deep breath. "I did something terrible. I have angered China... and now he wants revenge."

"What did you _do_?" Hungary called out, Austria standing awkwardly behind his ex-wife.

"I... killed Russia." He said, clearly ashamed.

A collective gasp.

England couldn't believe it. Russia was dead? How could such a small country have taken down the largest country on Earth? It was almost comical.

"Yes, I did it. And I'm so sorry but... there is nothing we can do to save ourselves."

Another gasp.

England's heart dropped into his stomach. He felt tears in his eyes again. America's grabbed his hand, clearly afraid.

"So... we all have about two minutes before they are over us and... you know..." Switzerland stopped. "That is all."

He threw down the megaphone and dropped to his knees, head in his hands. Liechtenstein rushed to his side, stroking his hair and comforting him. They embraced, and England knew that there was no hope left.

He felt tears fall down his cheeks.

America pulled him into a hug. He was crying as well.

They stood there, sobbing into each others' shoulders.

America whispered into England's ear. "Hey... At least we'll be together this time."

England stopped crying and looked into his eyes.

Blue. So beautiful and blue and perfect... This was different. He wouldn't be losing him this time, and America wouldn't be losing him either. They would die here, on this spot, in each others' arms.

England wanted the last thing he saw to be America.

So there he stood, staring at those eyes.

"England, remember that time when I was a kid and I tripped and scraped my knee?"

England was quiet. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember that time when you rocked me to sleep for the first time?"

"Of course I do."

"Remember that time that you made me those toy soldiers?"

"Yes! Why are you bringing these all up?"

America grinned.

"I want everything that I've had with you to be on both of our minds when we go. Keep talking to me, and don't think about it. Pretend we're just looking through a photo album at your place, and everything was normal..."

England's eye shed a final tear, and he wiped it away.

"I love you."

"I love you too." America whispered.

...

Boom.

...

England was dead. He had to be.

He was in pain, which was weird. He didn't know death hurt this badly.

He was very dizzy.

Maybe he could try and stand, leave wherever he was?

He must have been a spirit.

Suddenly, he realized that he was in a body.

Was he dead in his own body? Trapped forever?

He tried moving his fingers. They moved, so he was not dead in his own body, but something was weird. One of his hands would not move.

He opened his eyes. It took a moment to focus, for the sky above him was too bright.

He looked at his body, which still hurt.

_Oh god... _He thought. He felt sick.

His left hand was not there. It was simply gone. All that was left was blood and bone and muscle. He was aghast. There was nothing there... Oh god, his hand was gone. He saw something several feet away, but refused to look at it, for fear he would pass out and vomit from the terror.

He took a shaky breath, wincing from the pain.

There was blood everywhere. Blood pooled on the ground, for he was surrounded by death. Death everywhere. He stood up, legs hurting, but everything was still there on his lower body. His clothes had been nearly burned off his body, and his skin had been stained black in some places. But he was okay, otherwise. But... his hand. Oh god... It was gone.

He clutched his left wrist with his right hand, trying to stop the pain. Blood still dripped. No. _Poured._

He removed his shirt and wrapped it tightly around his... stump.

That seemed to stop the blood flow a little.

Then, his heart leaped.

America! Where was he?

He looked around frantically, ignoring the pain. He was going crazy, he knew it. Where was America? Where? _Where?!_

He spotted a figure several feet away.

He dropped to his knees beside it, tears already falling down his cheeks.

"No... No not again! NO!" England screamed in despair.

America was there, on the ground. Broken. His face was in tact, but his chest was burned. Badly. His right leg was twisted in a weird way, making England almost throw up.

Again, blood was everywhere.

"NO!" England screamed again, slamming his fists against the ground. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME AGAIN! WAKE UP! NO! N-NO..." He broke into miserable sobs.

The sounds he was making were barely recognizable as human.

"NO!"

He screamed.

Everyone was dead around him. His friends... all these countries he'd known for such a long time. Gone. Just... Dead. Blown to smithereens. Their body parts lay all around, amongst the rubble and scorched wood. Blood.

Their lifeless faces were too much. But... all that really mattered to England was the center of his universe. Right before him, his love was among them in death.

Tears fell from England's desperate eyes onto America's lifeless face.

Suddenly, as England buried his face in America's burnt chest, he felt it rise and fall, just a little.

"Hm?" He mumbled.

Another rise and fall. A groan.

England stared at his face. Was it true?

"A-America?" He whispered.

His blue eyes fluttered to life, and England's heart fluttered with joy and relief with it.

He cried tears of joy, clutching America close.

They had both been spared.

"England? Are we... dead?" America whispered.

"No!" He half-laughed, half-cried. "No, we're alive and breathing and _together!_"

America weakly kissed him, and England knew that there were many more where that came from.


	20. Chapter 20

**GERMANY**

Just a few more steps. Then... they'd be there.

Finally, Italy would be out of harm's way.

To be honest, Germany wasn't even sure anymore who they were in danger from.

Who was alive?

Who was dead?

Were they all that was left?

Italy was skipping through the grass, babbling about something totally meaningless as if he was not in a war zone and could explode at literally any moment.

The thought only made Germany walk faster.

It was the very last hill.

They'd almost made it... just a little bit farther...

Italy sprinted to the top of the hill, still babbling about something that carried absolutely no weight in their current situation.

When he got to the top of the hill, he stopped.

He stood there, back stiff.

Germany was confused.

"What's the matter, Italy?" Germany called.

Italy let out a blood-curdling scream.

Germany started running to catch up with him. What could be so wrong that-

Oh.

_Oh_.

Switzerland's house... it was reduced to nothing but rubble.

Rubble, burnt wood, and... death.

Germany felt like he was going to vomit.

The wood... was not wood. He had thought they were burnt logs. No, they were burnt _people_.

Italy dropped to his knees, tears falling down his cheeks already. He was shaking.

Germany was too shocked to do anything.

Who did this?

Who was as bitter and cruel that he could destroy something that had done him no wrong?

Germany paused.

_Him_. He had done the same thing once... But that was a time that he did not like to remember. But he did anyway.

He remembered the camps... The stench of death... Burnt skin... Blood... Filth... Screams... Sobbing... Loss... Fear... Darkness.

That was what he saw before him right then.

It was like one of the nightmares...

He shook his head. No, he would not relive any of the nightmares that tortured him every single goddamned night.

He could suddenly feel himself screaming too. His throat burned.

God only knew who had been down there. Italy could have lost his brother...

Italy.

He looked down to see if Italy was alright.

He was not.

He was crouched on his knees, sobbing into the palms of his hands. He looked so pitiful, so pained, so miserable.

Germany could feel himself reaching down, wrapping his arms around Italy, but he wasn't completely aware that he'd been doing it. He hugged Italy close, who gladly continued sobbing into Germany's shoulder.

"G-g-germany!" Italy sobbed. "W-what if... R-romano..." He continued to sob pitifully.

He didn't need to finish that question.

Germany couldn't even answer that.

Personally, he would not have much of a problem with that. But... It would destroy Italy. He would not recover from something like that. Italy could not lose his brother. It was best that they went down there and...

Germany took a deep breath.

"Italy... We should go down there and... check to see if..." He didn't need to continue.

Italy backed away from him, but then nodded. He reached out and grasped Germany's hand.

Germany would have blushed, but this was no time for awkward thoughts.

He held his breath, and tried to calm himself. He would not cry. He would be strong, for he had to be the solid one here. Italy's hand was trembling.

With Italy's hand in his, Germany stalked down the hill, and timidly entered the wreckage.

It was worse than he'd feared.

He saw burnt wood and stone and rubble all over the place. The flooring was still somewhat there, but in some places it was only singed dirt.

He looked around, and jumped when he saw something terrifying.

He felt bile rise in his throat when he saw the lifeless head of a dear friend. Just a head. Cut off from its body, severed from existence. It was Japan. He had to turn around to compose himself, but he did vomit on the ground as Italy fell to his knees and screamed.

Italy hid his face in his hands.

"I... I want to go home." Italy whimpered, voice trembling.

Germany was about to say something about how that was impossible now, but he realized what Italy meant. Go back to the way things were. That was home. To be happy and not afraid and content with the way things were.

Germany turned slowly and avoided Japan's dead face, smeared with blood. He looked only down at Italy.

"Italy... We have to search for anyone who might have lived." He whispered, although he himself would rather not.

Italy whispered too. "But... I do not want to know..."

Germany understood. He did not want to know who else had died.

But... in a way he had to know. He just had to.

He decided to leave Italy to his tears and keep walking. He found many other dead bodies, people he'd known for such a long time. At this point, nothing could hurt him. He'd been suffering far too long.

What he was really searching for was Romano.

Of course, Romano did not matter at all to him, but he did to Italy. If Germany found him dead along with the others, then he'd have to tell Italy. Which was something that he did NOT want to do.

But, if he had to, he certainly would.

Then, he saw something. He froze, and stared at it. It was a whole body, but you could hardly tell whose it was. It was burnt so badly that the skin was black. But Germany could see it.

It was Spain.

He had to blink back the tears.

Italy would not be able to handle this.

Germany looked back at the grieving man. He knelt down and said a silent prayer for Spain out of respect, for he knew how much Italy adored him.

He walked back to Italy, and decided not to tell him.

Italy looked up. "D-did you find anything?" He asked.

Germany shook his head hard. "No, nothing."

Italy seemed to accept this answer. He looked down and took a shaky breath.

"Well, maybe Romano wasn't here, then." He mumbled.

Germany sat down next to him. "You really are worried about him, aren't you?" He asked.

Italy sucked in his breath and nodded quickly.

Germany leaned back on the heels of his hands.

"What..." Italy began. He was quiet.

"Yeah?" Germany pushed.

"What was it like... losing him?" Italy whispered the last part.

Germany knew what he meant. He was talking about Prussia.

He thought for a second.

"Well... when I found out at first, I was... shocked I guess you could say. But then... it really sunk in. I never told anybody how I was feeling, I kind of just... ignored it. I let everyone think that I was fine and not upset. But inside I never stopped crying." He said, pausing often.

Italy nodded. "I could tell."

Germany looked over at him in shock.

"Y-you could? How?" He asked.

"Well..." Italy began. "I can just tell how you're feeling. I don't know. I can always sense if you're feeling bad or good. You are very readable actually."

Germany blushed. Italy laughed.

"Why are you blushing, Germany?" He giggled.

"I-Italy..." Germany started.

Then there was some rustling in the rubble.

Germany jumped up. He ignored anything he might have been thinking and called out ferociously, "Who goes there?!"

No reply.

"Show yourself!"

Then, out of nowhere came someone Germany would not expect to see.

China.

Germany reached for his gun, but it was not in his belt. He silently cursed himself for not having it on him. Then he felt for his dagger, and to his relief, it was still there.

China had a crazed look in his eye, as if at any second he might snap and start ripping his own hair out or acting like a monkey and talking to plants.

Italy stood up and hid behind Germany.

"What do you want, China?"

China smiled, a creepy and eerie smile that gave Germany chills.

"I am here to end myself, of course." He grinned larger, his eyes bulging out weirdly.

Germany's eyes widened. "W-why?"

China motioned to the surrounding area.

"My... fault. Shouldn't have... listened."

Germany felt something terrible rise in him. He wanted to kill this man, this man who killed so many people, so many people he loved, so many people who had once trusted him. He wanted to end this miserable life.

He took an angry step forward, but felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

He looked behind him, and Italy was staring at him pleadingly.

He gulped, and nodded, trying to compose himself.

"China, there's another way..."

"No!" He screamed.

Germany tried to take a step forward to China, to maybe help him.

China fell backwards and scrambled away. "No! Don't touch me!"

Germany stopped. China had gone completely mad.

Then, suddenly, Belarus came out from behind the same rock China had come from.

"Oh, hello there, Germany. I see you arrived late to the party." She grinned, almost as crazy as China.

Germany grabbed Italy's shaking arm, trying to steady himself.

"We were just leaving." He said firmly.

"Oh... that is a shame," She said, smirking. "Wouldn't you like to stay for... the entertainment?" She said menacingly.

Germany was positive he did not want to. But he said absolutely nothing, just backed away.

Belarus laughed. "Oh, I see. You must be late for something. Allow me to free up your schedule." She pulled out a gun and quickly shot it at the ground in front of them. She was a terrible shot.

Italy screamed all the same, making Belarus laugh merrily.

China still sat in fetal position, rocking back and forth.

Belarus looked at the gun in her hands, giving Germany chills.

"Belarus, put down the gun." He said as calmly as he could manage.

"And why should I?" She shouted.

Germany was about to spit back some reply, but China jumped up and kicked her to the ground. The gun skidded out of her hands and hit another rock about fifteen feet away. She landed face first.

Then China looked at Germany, a wild look in his eye.

He wasn't China anymore. He was an animal. A bloodthirsty animal.

He ran straight at Germany. Germany pulled out his dagger, but China was too fast.

Germany lunged at the sprinting China with his dagger, but China was too fast. He avoided the blow, and leaped into the air, kicking Germany square in the temple, heel making direct contact with his temple. It sent Germany sprawling to the ground.

Italy was screaming somewhere in the background.

"_Get up! Get up, Germany!_" Germany could hardly hear anything. His ears were ringing. He stumbled up, just in time to have the wind knocked out of him by China's fist. He fell over again.

Then, Italy's feeble screams were cut off by a loud _Bang_.

Germany looked over and Belarus was no longer on the ground. He could not see her, or Italy. But for now he had to get away from China. He had to save Italy from whatever that witch was doing to him.

Germany shoved himself up and waited patiently for China's next blow. He finally could see a good chance to grab China's arm and flip him onto his back. He took it. It worked.

China's eyes widened as he was taken off guard. He landed on the ground with a loud thud.

Germany grabbed his dagger and hovered it over China.

Then, China did something unexpected. He broke out into tears.

Huge, bubbling tears. The kind that said loud and clear _I see no reason to be alive anymore._

"I... Switzerland killed... Russia!" He sobbed. "I'm all alone! ALONE! Just do it! Kill me! KILL ME NOW." He demanded through teary eyes.

Germany sucked in his breath. This was sickening.

He quietly nodded in understanding. He then stabbed China directly in the heart, making sure he didn't remove the knife until the life disappeared from China's eyes. Blood gushed from the open wound in China's chest, but he cried no more. His pain was no more. Germany closed his eyes for him and yanked out the knife from China's unbeating heart.

Then he wheeled around and saw Belarus with the gun. She had it pointed directly at Italy, who cowered against the remnants of a wall, shaking and whimpering. Belarus wasn't even paying attention to Germany.

Germany sprinted. He had time. He still had time.

He dove onto Belarus' back, just as the gun went off the final time. He began stabbing repeatedly, making sure she was alive to feel the pain of her wounds. She screamed, and pleaded.

He was crazy. Just as crazy as China had been. He ignored her weak pleas as he brought the knife down into her skin over and over. She was becoming nothing but blood. He found pleasure in her anguish.

She finally passed out and died. Germany discovered that his hands and clothes were soaked in blood. His own and theirs.

He jumped up, shoving his dagger back into its sheath. He then remembered.

"Italy!" He called out. "We're safe!"

He wheeled around, and saw.

Italy was frozen against the wall, clutching his stomach, which was pouring blood. He looked at Germany in pain as his knees gave in and he fell over.

Germany felt panic rise in him. He sprinted over to Italy, who was also feebly grasping his left arm, which also had blood all over it.

She got him twice.

The first was probably his arm, and she'd gotten his stomach the second time.

Iatly whimpered and looked up at Germany, as tears were forming in Germany's eyes.

Germany found himself trying to pick up Italy.

Italy whimpered again. "Germany... Calm down... It's no... use."

Germany felt a tear drip down his face.

His heart clenched up. It unclenched and clenched again.

Italy reached with a shaky finger and touched the tear.

"G-Germany..." He whispered.

"Yes?" Germany said, hoping that whatever he had to say would not be the last thing he said.

"I... Love you." Italy said, a small smile on his lips.

Germany gasped for air. He would have blushed, but there was no time for that. He then let go. He allowed himself to truly say what he was thinking.

"I love you too, Italy."

Italy smiled and looked up at the sky for a moment, then looked back at Germany.

"I'm dying, Germany."

Germany felt his heart clench again. No, he would not cry. He would not cry. He just would not.

He swallowed. "Oh." He said, sounding broken.

Italy looked at him seriously again.

"Don't... forget about me, okay?" Italy scrunched his eyebrows together, as if trying to remember something.

"Italy..." Germany whispered.

Italy's eyes widened.

Then, he smiled.

"It's funny... I'm the one leaving this time."

Then, he took a deep breath and close his eyes. He exhaled and didn't breath in again.

Germany screamed.

He just screamed.

He shook Italy's shoulders, trying so hard to wake him up.

He would never wake.

Germany's heart was a thousand shattered pieces.

He was just as broken as his surroundings.

And for the first time since his brother's death, he cried.

He really, truly cried.

Broken, animal-like sounds wrenched from his throat.

He was alone. He never knew he could be this alone.

He was full of bitterness and hate. And no one was there to love him anyway. He had no friends. No family. No one. Everyone he'd known was dead around him. He was the last.

He fell onto his back and screamed at the sky. How unfair.

Suddenly, his vision blurred and he was somewhere else.

He could see a filed of grass. It looked like Austria's backyard.

There was a girl there. She looked so familiar. When he saw here, his heart swelled. She had cropped reddish-brown hair and rosy pink cheeks. She was very small, and was sitting in the grass.

She looked up.

"Holy Rome! I've been waiting for you!"

Germany widened his eyes. Was she talking to him? But... He was not Holy Rome... That wasn't... his... name...

Then, suddenly, that _was _his name. He was Holy Rome.

He didn't know how or why, but he'd always been this strange person named Holy Rome. And he knew this girl. He just could not remember her name.

He was still grieving, so he did not allow himself to smile at her.

She got up and ran to him, holding her skirts up so she could run.

"Hey! What's the matter?" She demanded.

A tear fell down his cheek.

She gasped and reached out quickly, catching the tear on the tip of her finger. Germany smiled a little at the cute gesture. He somehow knew that he loved this girl. And she loved him.

Then, he remembered her name.

"Italy." He said quietly.

Then, he remembered everything.

The battle. His head injury. Then Prussia. Before that, the earliest memory he had was of Prussia meeting him.

But he now knew that he'd had a whole life.

Germany felt more tears coming into his eyes.

"Holy Rome, are you alright?"

Germany did not hesitate. He grabbed Italy around the waist and brought his lips to Italy's.

Italy froze for a moment, then gave in and melted into Germany.

Germany pulled away for a moment to look at him.

"I-Italy?" He asked.

"S-Si?" Italy said.

"Why are you wearing this dress?" He asked curiously.

Italy did not say anything for a moment, then responded, "I do not know, actually. Miss Hungary dresses me every morning."

Germany nodded and kissed his forehead.

He wanted to stay this way forever. To remain as Holy Rome and to be loved and cherished and cared about by this perfect person...

But nothing perfect can last forever.

Germany opened his eyes and he was once again alone in the rubble.

He was laying next to dead Italy.

And he was, for the very first time since he first awoke after the head injury, alone.

Absolutely, heart-breakingly alone.


	21. Chapter 21

**ITALY**

_His scent fills my nostrils, and I feel safe. I really like leaning into him like this._

_His shirt is soft, but very dirty from all of the time we've spent outdoors. _

_I know he doesn't want me to leave him, but I know now that there is nothing more I can do. _

_I sigh and look up into his eyes._

_They're so blue, so beautiful. _

_I know instantly that I've said goodbye to them before._

_Then, it all comes rushing back. _

_The tears, the promises, the... kiss. _

_It was him all along. _

_I knew he would never have lied to me... _

_He kept his promise alright._

_He came back to me._

_And this is exactly how I want to go... _

_In his arms. _

* * *

AHH! Sorry for the short chapter, guys! It's been a really long week and I feel like I wanted to change things up a bit.

But there ya go!

:)

~Alisia Vi Roberto


	22. Chapter 22

**GERMANY**

Germany did not know how long he'd been wandering. It could have been weeks, months, years. Hell, it could have been hours for all he cared. He no longer noticed the sun rising or setting. He knew one thing for sure, it was long enough to die of exhaustion.

He hadn't stopped walking since he'd left Switzerland's house. He refused. He would walk until his legs wouldn't anymore. He would eat nothing, drink nothing. It wasn't like he was _trying_ to die, he was only not stopping it from happening. How could he mind dying if... no one else was around to miss him when he was gone?

Since Germany had not yet encountered anyone, he figured he was all that was left. But, in all honesty, he didn't want to be the one to restart the world.

He knew that new countries would be born, and then he'd have to guide them. It would be just the same as before. He would have to tell everyone what to do, and then they'd all argue and nothing at all would get done. Some would be gluttonous, some overpowering, some frightening, and some annoyingly neutral. He wanted no part in any of it.

He wondered what would take Italy's place in the world. Would they be as sweet as he once was? Or as rude as Romano used to be?

Who would take _his_ place?

So many questions. Not enough answers. Not enough time. Not enough of anything.

There would be more wars. Probably more world wars as well. And, after a while, these new countries would, too, kill each other off. Then more would be born. It would go on forever. Until the Earth itself someday vanishes.

Germany felt tears slipping down his cheeks again. Why did it have to be this way? There was once a time when they were all connected, when there were no oceans to separate them, and no countries. Things just... _were_. Germany wished he could have lived in a world like that.

He also wished that maybe he could have been human. Then he would not have so much responsibility. He would not have been the cause of so many deaths. It would have been someone else's problem.

He sighed. What was he thinking? He had been born like this. There was nothing he could do. Sure, he resented this life and where it had led. But... would he trade anything in the world for it? No. If he'd been human, he would have never known Italy. He would have never known Prussia, or Japan, or Austria... he would have had other friends. Perhaps he would have even been in love.

He shook his head. No. This was the life he was given.

Then, something strange happened. His legs began to move slower and he couldn't get them to move faster. They just wouldn't. His stomach burned for food. His tongue was a useless piece of cardboard in his mouth, deprived of moisture. His head spun. He fell to his knees.

The dirt ground was a lot harder than it looked. It was covered in a thin layer of frost, and it was very cold. His fingertips were red, and they trembled.

Could this be it? Was he finally going to have peace?

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE YOU BASTARD!"

Oh no. Of all the people that could have been spared. Germany did not have the strength to turn around.

"I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BROTHER?!"

Germany coughed and managed to sputter, "D-Dead..."

Silence from behind him. Then WHACK! Something hit Germany in the back. Normally it would not have fazed him (for Romano had a weak arm) but that small contact sent him sprawling to the ground.

Someone came limping in front of him. Germany looked up at him, seeing double.

Romano look terrible. He had dark circles under his eyes, his lips were a little blue from the cold, his hair was wild and greasy, and his body looked like it was ready to collapse. But he still had enough anger in him to fuel this final outburst.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" He screamed.

"Y-your brother i-i-is dead..." Germany managed.

Romano screamed. He just... screamed. He screamed as tears were squeezed from him eyes, falling down his cheeks in huge rivers of pain.

After he was done screaming, he looked at Germany.

"YOU!"

Germany could just barely squeak out a "huh?" with the amount of life he had left in him.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" He pointed a trembling finger at him.

Germany summoned enough energy to shake his head once.

"YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE! YOU LET HIM DIE! YOU LET THEM ALL DIE! IT'S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

Germany felt another tear fall down his cheek. What was wrong with this man? How could he be so ignorant, so careless, so evil... Then, Germany stopped. He'd lost people too. He had been hurt, just as Germany had.

"S-Spain?" Germany choked.

Romano looked at him, his eyes glinting with a new fire. "WHAT ABOUT HIM YOU ASSHOLE?!"

Germany knew he had to be the one to tell him. This would not be good. "Spain... explosion... g-gone..."

Romano fell to his knees and made an unrecognizable squeaking noise. Tears began to fall down his cheeks, even more than before. His head fell into his hands, and he just sobbed.

Germany could have been looking in a mirror.

"You... l-loved-"

"NO I DIDN'T YOU BASTARD! I JUST HAVE SOMETHING IN MY EYE!" He continued to sob pitifully into his hands.

Germany closed his eyes. No sense in letting Romano's pain effect him.

"I BET YOU KILLED HIM TOO! I MEAN IT'S NOT LIKE I GIVE A FUCK OR ANYTHING BUT STILL! YOU MUST BE THE ONE WHO DID IT! YOU ARE THE MOST AWFUL, TERRIBLE PERSON I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!" Then, Romano fell over beside Germany.

Germany then did something that surprised them both. He reached over and grabbed Romano's hand. And to his shock, Romano did not freak out and tell him to go away. He only gripped Germany's hand, his fingers trembling.

He continued to sob.

Germany would too cry, but he could not find the moisture anymore. He had no water to cry with. So he just allowed his heart to ache.

Eventually, Romano's tears dried up as well.

And they both lay there, their strength slipping away. They lay there, their hearts aching.

"I'm sorry." Romano said.

Then, Romano's fingers lost their tight grip on Germany's. Germany couldn't feel Romano breathing beside him anymore. He, too, had passed. Along with everyone else. Germany was once again alone.

But not for long.

He decided that then was the right time to just...

Let go.


	23. EPILOGUE

**ENGLAND**

"England?" Someone whispered.

England's eyes fluttered open and he was in his house. He looked around sleepily. The light flooded in through the window, meaning it must have been morning. He could hear birds chirping outside.

Then, he sees the blue eyes he's come to need. They stare at him through his glasses, and England's heart jumps a little in his chest. America smiles at him. He reached over and touched England's cheek, sending electrical currents throughout England's body.

England almost forgot about... yeah.

He didn't dare look down to his left. But he had to. He slowly looked down at his hand... and what he saw made him cry out in surprise.

It was still there.

"What? What's wrong?" America yelped.

England sat up quickly. He looked around frantically.

"Dude, what's the matter?" America demanded.

England quickly examined his body. No burn marks. Nothing. He was totally unmarked. He then grabbed America's shirt collar and looked at his throat. No scar. He peaked down his shirt. His chest wasn't as burnt as it should have been! In fact, it wasn't at ALL!

"Dude! What the HELL?" America's eyes widened.

England could feel tears in his eyes.

Before he could stop himself, he wrapped his arms around America's neck and kissed him. America went rigid for a second, probably out of shock, but then kissed England back. England had never kissed him like this before. He was so relieved, so happy... Tears continued to fall down his cheeks.

"I love you..." England said.

America looked at him quizzically, but then his eyes softened and he hugged England. "I love you too."

England kissed him again.

"England... why are you so eager all of a sudden?" America chuckled against his lips.

England pulled away for a second. "What do you mean?"

America was smiling, his blue eyes shining with joy and glory. "Well... you've never done _that_ before."

England felt his face heat up. Oh god... He felt sick. Could it be? None of it... actually happened? It was all a dream? _Wow... that explains a lot. _England couldn't imagine how America must have been feeling. Confused? Disgusted? Oh god... England really screwed up this time.

He was about to start apologizing when America pulled him close and kissed him. It was England's turn to be shocked.

"What?" Was all England could manage to choke out.

"It's about time!" America laughed.

England tried feebly to make a tough face, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but love America. Love his eyes. Love his voice. Love his scent.

He would have to fix things with Sealand. He'd have to give everyone a huge hug. He'd have to slap France in the face. But for now... He was busy. Everything else would just have to wait.

"England..." America mumbled.

"Yes?" He said.

"I mean, I'm happy that you are but... why are you doing this?" He laughed.

England sighed. How could he relive all those horrible things? All of it seemed so real... and he wanted really nothing more than to forget about it. How could he explain that he'd dreamed of a war that left no survivors? How could anyone hear that without deciding that England was mad? What could he tell America without scaring him to death?

"I'll explain someday." Was what he settled on.

That would be a story for another day. Because right now... America was all his.

And he would never, not ever, let him go again.

* * *

THE END!

I'm sorry that the last chapter is so short... but I needed a sweet little ending. And here it is. This is what you were all waiting for:)

It actually took me a really long time to think of this.

So... I have a list of songs I listened to with each chapter that I think you guys might like. Here ya goooo, my final goodbye to you guys:)

- **Everytime We Touch** by Cascada

- **Goodbye **by Avril Lavigne

- **Can You Feel The Love Tonight **by Elton John

- **I See The Light **from the soundtrack of _Tangled_

- **Rolling In The Deep **by Adele

- **Slipped Away **by Avril Lavigne

- **Safe & Sound **by Taylor Swift

- **A Thousand Years **by Christina Perri

- **The Only Exception **by Paramore

- **Mr Blue **by Catherine Feeny

- **Decode **by Paramore

- **Wake Me Up When September Ends **by Green Day

- **Boulevard of Broken Dreams **by Green Day

- **Drops Of Jupiter **by Train

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR READING MY FANFICTION! WRITE A REVIEW FOR ME BECAUSE I LOVE ALL MY READERS SO MUCH! ALL OF MY SWEET REVIEWS ARE PART OF THE REASON I ACTUALLY FINISHED WRITING THIS!

HAVE A LOVELY DAY:)

Love and love and love again,

_Alisia ViRoberto~_


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